The One that Stayed
by TARossum
Summary: It was meant to be a one-night thing. A young student and a famous wrestler. No strings attached. But none of them had enough and they kept coming back for more. It seemed innocent at first but they didn't realise how difficult it would be having an affair and not ending up hurting each other.
1. Winter

**I.****WINTER**

She was so thrilled because she had never got a ticket to any after party. At least not to a one where she could meet a celebrity. And this party was in her opinion full of celebrities. It was true that not every person in the world, not even in America would recognise these stars. There are not many fans of wrestling in country she came from but this is the U.S., people probably know more wrestlers than football players (for she lived in Europe, European football was the only football in her eyes, she refused to call it soccer).

And there they came. She was waiting in the corner to see them arrive. It took them more than half an hour to get all dressed up and she had to admit they looked differently. They were wearing tuxedos or jeans with formal shirt. They all looked amazing. But she wasn't used to it. Nobody was, since these people were being looked at while wearing not more than briefs. Somebody would call them naked but who would fight in a suit? Now these ring animals turned into gods. She was a lot into ancient Greece and Rome, so she liked the idea of them being more than human beings. Semi-gods, if you please.

Within few minutes after the first one walked into, the room filled up with almost every wrestler she had ever seen. First she was not brave enough to get closer to them, she kept her distance, she didn't even think about talking to them, asking them to take a picture with her or give her an autograph. Also, that was not what she wanted. She knew that was what everybody asked them for so they had to be tired of doing it again and again. If she found the courage to talk to them, she would ask something just to talk to them. Maybe ask them how they were doing or something.

She went to the bar to order something to drink. Then she moved to the table and sat down. For a while she just wanted to observe. To learn from their behaviour what they were really like. Since almost everything you see on TV is fake, she thought now she had the opportunity to get them right. She heard before that some stars didn't attend these parties. That said something about them too. It was evident that these, usually heels, were keeping their WWE identity also in the backstage. It all made sense. But some of them appeared and seemed to be nice and friendly.

Of course, plenty of wrestlers (this party was only for male wrestlers) were flirting with girls they certainly hadn't seen before. She didn't really know whether they were in a relationship and in that case, they were cheating on their girlfriends or even wives, or they were single and were just having fun. She wondered how many of those chicks would end up having sex with them and being kicked away in the morning, maybe sooner. They would be satisfied anyway, though.

As the time was passing by, they were all getting drunker; there was almost nobody who wouldn't have a couple of drinks in themselves. She had only one Mojito, therefore she was pretty sober. By the time she ordered another one, Wade Barrett was whispering something into that girl's ear and taking her away. Watching them, she was smiling. How stupid that girl had to be to do that. Then she remembered how stupid herself had to be to be alone at a party full of people she admired and not talking to them, only sitting quietly at the table and watching them. So pathetic. She thought that she should get drunk to start doing something. It was time to be herself. She didn't need to pay so much money to do something she could be doing in any regular bar. She was a funny girl, just a little shy.

She forgot about her little promise to herself after noticing Seth Rollins, one third of The Shield, trying to dance cha-cha. At the same moment she saw Fandango looking at him too. He seemed to be laughing at him but he didn't look as cocky as he did in the ring. She was smiling and after Seth's pirouette, she couldn't resist making a little chuckle.

Then she noticed she wasn't the only one watching somebody. She herself was being looked at by some guy. He was not only some guy, in reality, it was Dean Ambrose, or whatever his real name was. He saw her laughing at his colleague. She was certain she was blushing and she looked away immediately. She didn't want to look back at him, those few seconds staring at each other was embarrassing enough for her.

She needed to get away. Suddenly there was too little air for her in there. She stood up and walked to the bathroom as fast as she could. All that without looking at him one more time. She thought that he probably went back to whatever it was that he was doing before. It was no big deal for him. She certainly wasn't the only one who had this little accident with him.

When she got out of the stall and headed to the wash basins, she had to think about it again. And as she was washing her hands, she chuckled. The other person washing her hands next to her looked at her weirdly and simply walked away. Therefore, she stayed alone in the bathroom. She didn't want to go outside yet so she just stared at her reflection in the mirror unable to stop smiling. But for nobody was there to see her, she didn't care. Dean Ambrose was looking at her. He saw her getting embarrassed but still, it was amazing.

She checked herself up in the mirror; she fixed her long brown hair so that they were only on her right side, in front of the shoulder. Then she looked at her glittering black knee-sized tight dress, put on red lipstick and finally, after checking one more time that there was really nobody inside, she lifted her breasts a bit up so now she looked smoking hot. Ready for action. No more sitting at the table, it was time for her to be herself and get those guys on their knees.

Confidently she walked out of the bathroom. Suddenly her heart started to beat faster and soon enough she realised why. He was there. Dean Ambrose was only few steps away from her, checking her out and smiling. They were not far away from the centre of the party but still, they were the only ones in this hall.

She felt she was trembling. He was making her feel uncomfortable. What should she do now? Should she say something? Or, should she just walk away? She tried not to think about who he was. She tried to imagine it was a normal situation when the guy is looking at her; she went through it a hundred of times. She swallowed down and pretended everything was fine.

It seemed like forever for her but in reality, only a couple of seconds had passed when she thought the time stopped.

"Hey," he said in a seductive deep voice while she kept her voice silent. She knew responding would be a right thing to do but she couldn't. "Are you avoiding me?" he asked her.

This time she responded. Unfortunately, not with the yes or no answer. Instead, she burst out laughing. She couldn't resist. Well, what kind of question is that anyway?

"I'm sorry," she said after a while. Her voice sounded normal. It seemed like she was okay now. She has got the situation under control. Or, her behaviour. "I don't know you, you don't know me. How could I be avoiding you?" she opposed.

He went quiet. He thought about what he should say. "Well," he started unsure how to continue, "I looked at you and you ran away."

"Don't exaggerate," she told him. He was surprised by the change in her behaviour. She didn't seem like a grey little mouse anymore. She certainly didn't look like that.

"Anyway, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," he apologized.

"Wait, did you follow me here to tell me that?" Now, she was making him uncomfortable.

He really seemed to be confused. She thought it was the right moment to take off. "It was nice to meet you, Dean," she uttered on her way away from there. She couldn't believe where she found the confidence to call him by his fake first name.

She walked outside to get some fresh air. She didn't want to get any attention, she didn't want any company. That's why she went out by the back door. She was almost sure nobody would be there. And nobody was, indeed. Fortunately, music inside was so loud that she could still hear it. Therefore, she didn't feel like she was alone in the dark alley.

To enjoy her moment in the sun, she picked up a pack of cigarettes from her purse and lit one up. She liked looking at the sky while smoking. Especially at night, when there were stars and the moon. She just liked that atmosphere. She never considered smoking a group activity, she could only enjoy it when she did it alone and outside, in a nice spot.

While making small circles out of fume that she breathed out, she picked up her phone and kept staring at it for a while. She was thinking of calling her ex-boyfriend who probably didn't even realise it was over. She felt it was getting too serious and she didn't want it to. For her it was only a fling which lasted too long. It came out of nowhere for her when he asked her to move in with him. She didn't think much about it, she accepted it but she never agreed with it, internally. So after a month of living together, she packed up her stuff and moved out. She didn't spoke to him. She left him a note, though, on the fridge, saying that she went for a walk and not to expect her. He should get it. If not, maybe he'd call. He probably didn't even know she was in the USA. But since she had been here for three days, and he didn't call her, he probably realised it was over.

But now she wasn't so sure it was the right thing to do. Not breaking up with him, she felt pretty confident about that decision, but she should talk to him to explain her reasons. But maybe it was just alcohol speaking. Anyway, it was pretty late. She wasn't even sure if it was still Friday or Saturday already. When she looked at her phone again she found out it was about five minutes till midnight.

She put her phone back in the purse and considered having another cigarette but some time ago, she made herself a promise to smoke only one cigarette at a time. Although she had never been a though smoker she didn't want to smoke two or more cigarettes in a row. She wasn't addicted and didn't want to destroy her health either. Occasional smoking was the right dose.

Suddenly the back door opened and some drunk guy walked out. He could have been a little older than her, maybe around twenty-five but he was pretty wasted so he looked older. But still she recognised he was not a wrestler. Just some nobody like her. He was probably calling somebody because he kept shouting "Pick up, you bitch!" After a while he gave up. Since she was no longer there alone, she decided to go back inside and maybe find somebody to dance with.

"You have a cigarette?" he asked her as she was opening the door.

"Sure," she responded and closed the door again to get him one.

"And a lighter?"

"Yeah," she exclaimed irritated. She hated when somebody asked for both the cigarette and the lighter. If they want to smoke, they should get it themselves. It's like if they asked for money. Or for food. And if you're not a homeless person, you don't do that.

"What?! You have a problem with that?" he started to shout at her, too.

"No," she lied to avoid getting him angry. But it seemed like it was too late.

"You think you're better than me?" he asked her.

She just sighed. She also couldn't stand people saying this worn-out phrase.

"You know what?" he continued, not letting her get inside. "I don't want your fucking cigarette." He tried to throw it at her but since he was so wasted he missed. Fortunately for her because the dress she was wearing cost bags of money. "I want you to be my whore," he said in a voice which gave her shivers.

"I'm not going to sleep with you," she assured him.

"Oh yes, you are." He got closer trying to kiss her but she was pushing him away. She was scared but when she was younger she attended some martial-art classes so she kind of knew what to do. The only problem was she was weaker than him. And also, she was wearing a tight dress which is not something you can fight in easily.

But before he could hurt her, or before she could hurt him, the back door opened again and yes, there was Dean not taking his time, he was ready to save the situation right away. He took the offender by his throat and dragged him away to hit him right in the face.

She was watching him in the action. Now he looked exactly like he looked in the ring. He was the same monster. The monster she was not afraid of. She was sure he didn't forget about her although he was busy. What's more, she knew he was aware of her watching him. He was whispering something into that man's ear, she didn't hear it but she noticed the guy trembled afterwards.

When Dean let go of him, he fell on the floor holding his neck and coughing. She kept her mind busy thinking about what to say, how to react, how not to let him win this. First she made sure she didn't look surprised, scared or as a victim.

"Are you okay?" he asked her when he was only few steps away from her.

"Sure," she responded sharply.

"You're welcome," he said to let her know he saved the situation and she should be thankful.

"I didn't need your help."

"Really?" he asked doubtfully.

"Really. Just take a look at him," she pointed at the poor guy who was now throwing up. "Do you think he would be able to hurt me?" she attacked.

"Don't be such a feminist."

"There's nothing feminist about it."

"Even though he's drunk, he would still be able to rape you, you know," he uttered what made her look at him again. Then she shook her head sceptically. So he continued, "Men are strong. You should know that since you're here."

"Yeah... I'm about to leave anyway," she stopped him and opened the door to get inside and then leave as she promised. She left him in a mute admiration. He couldn't believe how proud she was. Or was it just a mask? She really seemed like a shy girl before. Then she turned into this... bitch, maybe?

In reality, she didn't just want him to think he was something more. She was only having fun. Where would thanking him and admitting he saved her got her? She was right. That guy out there was harmless. Big words, no nuts.

She went to the dressing room to get her coat so that she could finally get away from there. For one night it was enough. Anyway, she was not in America for pleasure. There certainly were more important things than attending a wrestling party.

Fortunately for her, this attitude didn't scare him off. He was fascinated, indeed. Soon enough he was getting in her way again. She was about to leave when he appeared at the entrance.

"You really are following me, aren't you?" she posed him a simple question. This time her voice was much friendlier than before.

He smiled provocatively and crossed her way so that she had to stay right where she was. "So, Zoey... may I call you that?" he proposed waiting for her reaction.

"That's not my name," she opposed exactly how he expected.

"As mine is not Dean, and still, you called me that."

"Fair enough," she agreed.

"So, Zoey," he repeated but this time he continued. "You're a young pretty girl. Why are you here alone?"

"Like you're here with somebody," she responded.

"I'm here with my partners," he said meaning his ring partners, Roman and Seth, to what she laughed without explanation. Then she simply walked away. Again. And again, she didn't get far.

"Don't let that girl leave!" Dean commanded the bodyguards standing next to the door. And since she couldn't go anywhere she turned back to him.

"What is that?" she asked without getting an answer. "What do you want from me?" she asked again. Since he didn't answer, she tried to get outside anyway but it didn't work out for her. "Could you let me go, please?" she asked the guards this time.

"No," one of them responded shortly.

Getting a little bit angry she tried to conceive a plan. She didn't like him playing with her like with a little mouse. As she could think of only one thing to do, feeling embarrassed, she walked to him and said quietly, "Thank you for saving me." It took her a while to say it as it was very difficult to get it out.

It seemed as it pleased Dean to hear it but also that he didn't expect her to say it.

"As I said earlier, you're welcome," he responded.

"Can I leave now?" she asked him hopefully.

"Why do you want to leave?" he countered.

She stayed quiet as she couldn't come up with anything to say. She really didn't have a reason to leave. Instead, she asked him something.

"Why are following me?" was her question.

"You're an interesting person. And I've got nothing better to do," he added.

"I've got a work in the morning. That's why I wanted to leave," she suddenly answered his previous question.

For a while nobody said anything. Dean meant to let her go but then he said, "That's a lie. It's already past midnight, if you headed to your hotel right now, you wouldn't be there before one, that means you would probably go to sleep at two, therefore you would get in a better case four hours of sleep before waking up at six. That means if you really had to wake up early and that work to do would be important, you wouldn't be here at all," he concluded.

She was fascinated by his logic. It was pretty clever in reality. But there was something she still didn't understand. "Why do you think I'm going to a hotel?" she wondered.

"From your accent I can hear English is not your first language although it's almost perfect and moreover, you're using British English so you don't live in America and you certainly don't work here. So tell me, who you really are?" he asked her although he found out a lot himself.

"You're right, I'm European and I study at a British university. But although I don't work here, I have a couple of meetings to make here. But none of them is in the morning," she confessed quietly.

"So why did you really want to leave?" he wanted to know.

"Because I was bored, and ashamed of myself that I didn't find the courage to talk to any wrestler."

"You're talking to me," he reminded her.

"And why is that?" she asked again.

"As I already told you, you're an interesting girl. Now come dance with me." It sounded like a command but he said it politely enough.

She remembered when she saw Seth Rollins dancing. It looked funny. She giggled again. "I hope you dance better than your partner."

"My partner?" he was confused. "Oh, you mean Seth. Yeah, I can dance," he promised. "Can you?"

"Waltz, tango, cha-cha, salsa, rumba, samba, jive, etc." After hearing this, Dean gave her an impressive look. "But I'm not going to dance with you," she said suddenly.

"Why not?"

"Because I see what you're doing."

"What am I doing?" he wanted to hear her explanation.

"You're trying to seduce me so that I would sleep with you," she answered.

"Maybe," he admitted. "But don't tell me you don't want to sleep with me."

"No, I don't," she lied.

"And can you promise you never will?" he asked her but she didn't answer. "One dance is all I want. Then I'll let you go," he requested.

"I don't want people to see me with you," she said what made him burst out into laughter.

"Really?" he was surprised. "You don't want people to see _you_ with _me_?" Hearing it she realised how stupid it was to say. It would be acceptable if it was reversed but this way around it just sounded stupid. "But okay," he continued. "If this is your condition, then we can go somewhere private."

"I didn't say it was my condition," she wanted to oppose but he stopped her.

"Ah, that's not important. Let's go," he commanded. When he saw she was not moving, he came be back and added, "You know I can carry you with ease." As she definitely didn't want people to see _that_, she finally followed him outside where a car was waiting which took them to the hotel.

She immediately realised she was in a trap. There was no way out. There was still possibility to just not go inside but the worst part was, she wanted to go there. Something like this had never happened to her before and although there was almost one hundred percent chance of getting sexual with this man, she didn't mind it. Maybe it was not right but she couldn't resist being a one-night stand of Dean Ambrose, or basically, any other star she admired.

"Come in," he invited her to his hotel room. Then he took off his coat and hers too. He played some music on the hi-fi set he had in the room. Surprisingly it wasn't slow, smooth music but ideal music for salsa.

"Are you kidding me?" she acted surprised. "Don't tell me you can dance salsa."

"Well, with Fandango around, one acquires some dancing skills," he exclaimed but although it sounded plausible, she still didn't believe he would be able to move his hips in the rhythm as it was needed for Latin-American dances.

When seeing her negative look he added, "Give it a try."

She smiled and nodded. Then when the beat told them to start, they did. Her dance moves very pretty impressive for somebody who had never danced professionally. But he... one had to admit he really tried, but anyway, it all seemed like a big failure. Why would he say he could dance when he actually couldn't? To get her attention and seduce her, eventually.

In the middle of the dance, she stopped, she couldn't do it anymore. She could dance but she couldn't pretend _he _could dance. "And tell me, did Fandango actually teach you how to dance or you were just watching him and trying to repeat what he did?" she was curious.

Dean resigned and admitted, "He started to teach me but soon enough he told me I was a lost case and he refused to continue."

"You poor little thing," she said with ironic empathy.

"Don't you want to try and see if I'm really such a bad student?" he proposed.

"Your girlfriend is the only girl that can do that," she said realising she didn't know if he was single or not.

"But... I don't have any," he assured her using a low slow voice to get her under his control.

"In that case," she thought out loud, "there could be an exception," she acceded to his game.

Then she explained to him a couple of basic steps, she showed them to him and wanted from him to repeat them. Later she added counting and joined him in a dance. Although she was a girl, she was leading _him_ this time. That way she was sure he would do it right. When he earned some confidence, she played music so it would look more real. And even though he was originally doing it on a purpose of getting her into his bed, he was really enjoying it. Now he was even able to dance a little bit. Finally, she let him lead. Sometimes when she was unsure, she took the initiative but he looked at her letting her know he could do it himself. And after few minutes, he could dance salsa just fine.

The side effect of this lesson was that it led to a lot of touching each other, getting intimate. He didn't mind it but she wasn't sure. First she wanted to allow him to rule her but now that she was getting to know him better, although a lot of what he was saying were lies, she wanted to spend more time learning his true identity. She could sleep with a lot of other guys, even though she have never wanted to, and still, even if she had sex with Dean, she wouldn't boast about it, she didn't want anybody to know that she met him and there was a great possibility she would spend the night with him.

"Now I feel I should do something for you," he whispered into her ear while taking an advantage of her. He knew he did his job well and now she was going to do everything he wanted her to. That was a kind of reward he deserved, according to him.

While still in a dance position, dangerously close to her, his right hand which was until now on her back slipped down and settled on her butt. He pushed her even closer to him now touching each other. She being tall and also wearing high-heeled shoes allowed him to kiss her on the neck without big trouble which he usually had with other girls. Firstly, he pulled her hair away, with his eyes he found a perfect spot on her neck and then, slowly, he marked it with his lips. Feeling she felt insecure, he looked her in the eyes searching for the answer to a question whether she wanted him to stop or not. Not getting a negative response, he smiled seductively and then kissed her on her lips this time. His mission was on its way.

She wasn't feeling confident. How could she when an older wrestler was kissing her? But she didn't want to make a big deal out of it. She tried to think of him as a regular human being, forgetting about his achievements, fame and aggressive on-screen personality. This wrestling heel was no longer there with her. On the other side, when she thought of him as any other person, she was afraid even more. He was tall and strong, he could simply rape her. But he probably wouldn't use his muscles to get her. Step by step, she was letting him do with her anything he wanted. She was becoming his puppet.

As soon as she engaged in his game, when he felt her kissing him back he wanted to move on to the next stage which started with him lifting her and carrying her in his arms, then gently placing her on the bed which was big and comfortable, ideal for these kind of games, and he was kissing her through this.

She placed her arms around his neck making sure he wouldn't let her go. She stroked his hairy cheek which was sharp but comfortable anyway, then she stopped the kissing to play with his lips a little bit and she gazed into his eyes.

He was returning her look but he wanted to continue. Staring into each other's eyes was too intimate and romantic; therefore although he didn't look away, and he made sure she didn't either, he started to unzip her dress, very slowly so that she wouldn't notice immediately. And when she finally did, it seemed too late, he was already on his way and it was too late to stop him.

For a while he thought what would be the best way for him to take this dress off her. When it was the right time to do it, as he thought, she stopped and recoiled.

"Is something wrong?" he worried. She didn't say anything, she just shook her head no but it was a very unsure gesture. But he knew. She wasn't sure that this was right. It happened to him before. Girls, not women, because they're usually younger than twenty-five, tend to do it.

"I want you know that I'm not going to hurt you. If you don't want to do it, it's okay," he assured her. He didn't say it because _he_ didn't want to do it or to change her mind but it usually made girls like him more and do it at least not to let him down. Of course, there were girls who backed off but this one didn't seem to be one of them. She just needed a little push. He saw her change in behaviour before, once she's a shy girl like she was now, but then she can turn into a vamp. He just hoped this was the time.

"I want to do it," she responded, this time she was certain. At least on the outside. She was fighting a little bit inside but to make him, and also herself, sure of her words she started to take off his clothes and he was more than happy to let her.

Soon he was leaning on her while she was lying on the bed and holding him by his back. Both of them were wearing only their underwear and after a couple more minutes of making out, they decided to take off her bra, too. She wasn't doubtful anymore so she didn't waver when he moved his hand underneath her and tried to do a magic trick with her underwear.

Unfortunately for him, before he could open it up, his phone started ringing. He tried to ignore it first but it was really annoying and killing the mood so he reached for it and picked it up, eventually.

"I'm in the middle of something right now, I'll call you in the morning," he just said. As it was really dark there, he didn't look at the name of the calling person but to tell the truth, he didn't really care at the moment. That turned out to be a big mistake.

"Do you have somebody there?" sounded a pretty annoyed voice on the line. That was when he woke up of this love jag and got crazy.

"Fuck!" he shouted. He got off the lady he was kissing passionately before and suddenly he was standing on his feet running around the room harebrained. "I'll explain it to you..." But she evidently didn't give him a chance. "Listen to me!" he begged but uselessly. She hanged up on him.

He stood there for a while knowing he fucked up. Then he remembered he was not alone there. It seemed like there was another annoyed girl he should explain something to.

"So you _do_ have a girlfriend," she exclaimed.

"Yeah," he admitted.

"You lied to me!" she accused him.

"Yeah," he said again.

"You were going to have sex with me even though you have a girlfriend," she continued, putting her dress back on. "You're an asshole!" she shouted.

"Maybe," he agreed.

"And why aren't you going after her anyway?"

"I don't think she would forgive me. Again," he added.

"Wow, so you've done it before."

"Don't judge me," he attacked. "You have come with me here just because I'm a star and you would let me fuck you even though you don't know me at all. And anyway, why wouldn't you let me do it now? What has changed? When you came here you couldn't say for sure I hadn't had a girlfriend. And at least now you can be sure I don't have any."

"Maybe I was stupid and thought you were interested in me."

"Did you? You really thought I invited you over to _dance_?"

"No," she admitted.

Then he played some soft music to clear out the atmosphere and make it pleasant again.

"Come on, stay here," he urged her and pulled out his hand for her to take it. He put on his game again.

When she took it, he twisted her in a dance move she certainly didn't teach him. Was not being able to dance another lie? He placed his hand on her back but this time he didn't mean to dance. He only secured her head and safely performed another dance move, the one where she bends her back backwards forming a bow and her hair flies freely in the air. And he turned both of them around and moved forward. He guided her forward and when they stopped, he tried to look her in the eyes but she moved her sight every time. He needed to hold her head but he did it softly; she didn't look away this time.

"Let's start over again," he said softly.

"Okay," she said because she couldn't say otherwise. She was too much under his spell again. He knew exactly what he was doing and he did it well. He wouldn't let her go that easily. Nothing could stop him.

He placed her towards the wall and kissed her on the neck again. He didn't put away her dress yet, instead, with one had on her waist, he used the other one to move the short dress a little bit up so there was nothing in the way. His hand found its place on her thigh. He was aware that now she wouldn't want him to stop. She wanted more.

She tried to kiss him but he didn't let her. This game had rules. _His_ rules. He wanted her to beg for more. He took her dress off now, he didn't want himself to be the only almost-naked one there. She happily let him do it. He looked at her bodily coloured tights and slowly took them off, being careful not to tear them. How he hated those things, most of guys did, but he couldn't let it show. He took them off once, he took them off twice and he would do it again if it was what it took to get her.

When he was done, he kissed her neck getting her crazy. He still didn't want to kiss her on the lips. He moved down, kissing her belly and then her thighs, skipping the part in between. She was in ecstasy but it was still not enough for him. Instead of getting her back to bed, he lifted her up and her beautiful legs tied around his waist. Now, there was nothing separating them... Except for their underwear. But he was working on that too. Holding her soft butt with one hand and removing her bra with the other he finally kissed her. And that was a kiss. He couldn't wait to get her. In reality, he took the bra off as fast as he could so he could fully concentrate on her lips and her tongue.

He knew the foreplay was over. None of them could handle more of it. It was time to start the real action. He moved to the bed again but he wasn't gentle anymore. He just threw her on bed and followed her there. He simply took off the last pieces of their clothes and got a hold of her.

When the sun broke in, she was on her way out, getting dressed up again and trying to leave as soon as possible. But before she could do it, he woke up, right when she was putting on her shoes.

"What are you doing?" he asked tiredly.

"I've never been someone's one-night stand before so I don't really know how it works. I thought it would be the best if I left as soon as possible," she claimed.

"Where do you have that from? Movies?" he asked making fun of her.

"You can think whatever you want, I don't care."

When she was ready to go, she just got her purse which was on the bedside table and took out the phone to see what time it was. Then she wanted to stand up but he reached for her what made her sit down again.

"What more do you want? I gave you everything last night," she reminded him.

"You're really not a romantic soul," he responded.

"And are you?"

She made him stop. He took his hand back and let her go this time. He stood up himself and looked around the room to find his clothes which were lying all over the room since yesterday night.

"Hey," he shouted at her when she was in front of the door, "you forgot your purse," he gave her a notice.

"Thanks," she gasped.

But before she could get it, her phone started ringing and it was his chance to have some more fun. He picked it up and although she tried to get it back, he was so much stronger that she stood no chance.

"Hello," he started off politely. "Who're _you_?" "Yeah, she's right here." He gave her the phone to which she looked at him the way that would kill him if it was possible.

"It doesn't need to bother you who that was," unlike Dean she didn't even want to be polite. "What kind of question is that?! We're not together anymore; I can do whatever I want." "Well, I'm sorry if you didn't get it right but my note meant I don't want to be with you anymore." It seemed like she forgot she was the one who ended their relationship. She was being cruel to him for no reason. "I'm sorry," she said when she realised it. "I cannot meet you now... and, I don't really want to. Bye," she ended the call.

"So it seems you weren't really single yesterday, either," he found his chance to provoke.

"It's not my fault he didn't get it."

"I could say that too."

"Really? You mean that it's not your fault your girlfriend didn't get that you were just having fun?"

"Exactly," he said laughing afterwards. "Why did you break up with him, anyway?" he changed the subject.

"He wanted more than I could give him."

"And what was that?" he kept asking.

"Love," she uttered. To what he just smiled.

"Yeah, that's too much," he said ironically.

"People don't realise it but it is," she defended herself. "They often say that they love somebody but when they sober up they realise they were lying. I've been there before," she admitted, "I don't need to be with somebody who claims to love me and want from me to do the same but I know I never will."

"Is that your philosophy?"

"Look, you have a right to disagree but I don't care. I do what I want to do."

"And what do you want to do?"

"I want to play," she said.

He smiled again and approached her, then he quickly glanced at her, still smiling, grabbed her by her back and pulled her towards him. He performed another dance move with her which enabled him to get so close to her he was easily able to kiss her, but he didn't.

"If you ever come to the U.S. again, you can stop by," he offered her.

"You mean..." she started.

"You can come to play with me," he clarified it. He took her phone and saved his number there under the pseudonym _The Big Player_. "Just give me a call," he said.

Then he slowly dropped her hand and let her go.


	2. Spring

**II. SPRING**

As her studies were coming to an end, at least for now, she decided to celebrate it. Her friend Mona, who was about to earn a degree in biology and was twenty-three as well, suggested taking a trip. Studying in England is no holiday since it's almost impossible to get a week without rain. Therefore, what they wanted and needed was to travel somewhere sunny. No more rain, clouds, cold. The place should be warm and sunny with beautiful sand beaches.

Since April they were making their plans. They didn't want anybody else to go there with them. Just the two of them. For they had no boyfriends at the time, they could really enjoy it. Choosing the destination was the most difficult thing to do. One suggested Spain, other one Italy. One suggested Egypt, other one Turkey. It seemed they were finding no consensus.

"Let's decide some basic stuff the country should have," Ellie said.

"Sea," Mona insisted which was agreed right away.

"Peace," Ellie hesitated.

"Let's say no revolutions, protests or anything like that. That makes us cross out a lot of countries mainly in Africa and Asia. Hey, what about choosing a continent?" she asked.

"Definitely not Antarctica," Ellie started.

"Not Australia, it's too far away."

"But New Zealand would be beautiful."

"Also too expensive," Mona added. "And I don't really want to go to Asia either. It's either too far or too hot."

"You're right. And Asians are either short or Muslims. Let's stay with our culture."

"So what is left?" she asked herself. "Africa," she started to list the countries.

"No," Ellie rejected Africa, too. "There are protests and it's really hot too. And South Africa doesn't come on force."

"Then we have Europe."

"And America," she reminded because it seemed like they totally forgot about it.

"I don't want to go to South or Middle America but I wouldn't mind the north."

"Exactly. So let's make a final list. Canada, USA and what would we choose from Europe?"

"South," Mona shortened it. "But I would really like to go to the United States. Actually, I have a friend there where I'm sure we could stay. I haven't seen him for a long time so..."

"Wait," Ellie interrupted her. "He's a guy?"

"Yes. But he's the brother of my brother's wife. So he's kind of family."

"Yeah, I think you mentioned your sister-in-law is American. Anyway where exactly does he live?" she wanted to know.

"Guess."

"It's difficult to guess the right of fifty states... New York?"

"No. Try the direction," Mona encouraged her.

"East?"

"No."

"West?" she asked suspiciously.

"Yes."

"Does he live in California?" she wondered with delight.

"No. Unfortunately no Los Angeles but actually, he lived there for a while, too."

"Then I don't know. Oregon?"

"No," Mona stopped her. "Maybe I should have told you before that it's not on the coastline."

"Oh. But I though sea was one of the conditions," Ellie reminded her.

"Yeah. That's right. I forgot. So what, we don't need to stay at his place. We can live in Los Angeles."

"But that would be pretty expensive, don't you think?"

"Then what about Florida?"

"Hmm, maybe," she hesitated. "But tell me, where does he live, anyway?"

"Nevada. Las Vegas."

"Are you kidding me?" Ellie didn't want to believe her. "Fuck the sea. Let's go there!" she went crazy. "It will be awesome!"

"You're right. It's fucking Vegas, baby," she was thrilled too. "So what if we're not guys, we can have fun there too!" she claimed.

And that's how they got there. Right now, they were in Steven's apartment, getting to know the place and each other as well.

"So Steven, do you work in the casino?" Ellie wanted to know.

"No. People who don't live here don't realise it much but this city is not just a big amusement park," he told the two of them but not in the way that would make Ellie feel embarrassed about her question. They all started laughing right after. "I'm an architect," he continued.

Then when the sound of his coffee machine reminded him the coffee was done, he put it on the table in front of them. One cappuccino and one espresso.

"And what about you?" Ellie asked when he sit back down without any coffee for him.

"I don't drink coffee," he said a sentence which neither of them had heard in a very long time.

"What do you have the coffee machine for, then?" Mona joined the conversation.

"For the guests, of course." Both of them took a sip while he grabbed a cookie from the plate which he put on the table earlier. "Do you have any plans for the time you spend here?" he wondered.

"Of course we do," Mona took the initiative. "We want to gamble, have a lot of fun, attend some shows, take a lot of pictures and meet some cute boys," she explained him.

"That's what _she_ wants to do," Ellie emphasized. "I want to see the city first. Maybe visit some museums, see the nature... and," she couldn't finish because Steven interrupted her.

"Really? That's all? No casinos?" she asked.

"I'm not finished yet. I wanted to say, and then, in the evening and at night enjoy the true atmosphere of Las Vegas." It made them laugh. "But I don't have any interest in looking for some drunk guys to sleep with." She looked at Stephen to let him now, she wouldn't bring anyone in his apartment.

"I don't have a problem with you, girls, bringing here some guys. Feel like at home."

"We don't do that at home," Ellie protested.

"Yeah, she's right. We don't," Mona confirmed.

"That's not a reason not to do it here. That's the way I met my ex-girlfriend."

"But you're not together anymore," Mona reminded him.

"True, but it's not because we met playing a roulette. She was great actually. Unfortunately, she turned out to be a lesbian," he explained smiling. There were no hard feelings. "Talking about relationships, how are my sister and my brother-in-law doing?" he addressed a question to Mona as Ellie had no idea.

"Great. I had visited them before we flew over here and they told me to say hello to you. They would like to see you but as you know since Sarah is pregnant she cannot fly now. But maybe you could visit them. Actually, why don't you return with us?" she offered him.

"That's an amazing idea. I just need to ask my boss if it's okay with him but it should be. Oh, I can't wait," he admitted.

In the evening they all went to see a magic show. For Ellie and Mona it was something totally different from what they had seen anywhere else. Vegas was really different, like other world. All the tricks seemed surreal; they didn't understand how the magician did them. When you see a normal magic show, you usually see the tricks you have seen before so you know what to expect. But this time it wasn't like that. Mona was sure the magicians performing here had to attend some magic school or something. It was impossible that they would just learn these tricks from books. They were too perfect.

No rabbits in a hat, no parting the body, no card tricks. This was like a higher level of magic. At the end they were so amazed that it took them a while to get back to the reality.

Of course, for Steve this was nothing new. He had seen it before and probably he knew how some of these tricks were done. All the years spent in Las Vegas gave him a different look on the city which was so magical for visitors.

"What do you want to do next?" he asked them when the show was over.

"Let's play a roulette," Ellie suggested. And with that sentence it all started...

For a couple of hours Ellie, Mona and Steve were having fun gambling. They didn't care about how much money they would lose; it was all new for the girls so they wanted to get as much from the evening as they could. They tried all the kinds of games, although they didn't know most of the rules. There were times they were winning; they were times they were losing. At those times when they won a lot of money, guys surrounded Ellie and Mona wanting to get to know them, wanting to have some drinks together. And they had.

Steven left them soon because he said he would have a lot of work to do in the morning. Before going away he told them to enjoy the city but to be careful. They took his advice but forgot it soon after. They almost got into a big trouble when they lost a fortune. They were drunk enough, though, not to realise it. And not so much later, they got it back. And even more. It seemed like money was coming from every dice roll and every card they got. They certainly won a lot and fortunately for them, they decided to stop before losing it again.

This way they had enough money to buy more drinks, attend more shows or even to take a trip.

"Let's go to Hollywood!" Ellie shouted.

"Right now?" Mona asked. Then both of them burst into laughing.

Being so drunk they thought that maybe they should go home before they would embarrass themselves. But on the way out Mona noticed a guy standing next to the entrance. He was dressed in black, having a transmitter in his pocket. He certainly looked like a bodyguard. He looked though but he was young so he probably wasn't very experienced. His hair was long and tied into a ponytail. His eyes were dark and dangerous.

"I want him!" Mona said to Ellie.

"What? Who?" Ellie didn't know what she was talking about.

"That guy right there," Mona pointed at him, "I want him," she repeated.

"Come on, Mona, the only thing he will do to you is kicking you out."

"We'll see." She seemed to have a lot of courage, probably because of all the alcohol she drank that night and maybe the sum of money she made tonight helped too.

Mona approached him while Ellie stayed where she was to watch her in action. She was pretty sure that she would come back immediately, embarrassed and ready to leave. But after a while when Mona was still talking to him, Ellie decided to go there too to see what was going on. In her eyes it was impossible they would still be talking, unless he was trying to explain her why she should leave him alone. But when she was close enough to hear them, she was surprised. He seemed to be interested in her. Of course, she was all beautiful and charming but according to Ellie, it was inappropriate for the guard to flirt with somebody during his working hours.

"That's amazing," she heard him saying. "I would like to hear more about it but I'm not allowed to talk to the visitors now, actually," he continued.

"Why don't you call me when you'll be done here?" Mona suggested.

"I think you'll be sound asleep then." He seemed to be a nice guy now but before, he just looked arrogant, like any regular guard. "But maybe I could call you tomorrow... or is it today already?" he asked himself.

Mona was totally enchanted by him. She really was into him and it wasn't only his attitude or his muscularity. There was this irresistible voice. Not too deep, not too soft. Just perfect.

"I'm here all week," Mona told him happily. "I'd be glad to see you somewhere else. Somewhere quiet, maybe."

"Great. Would you give me your number, please?" he asked politely.

"Actually, I don't give guys my number." Ellie knew about this rule that Mona had so it was nothing new to her. "I would rather have your number so I can call you." That guy was a little surprised, it hadn't happened to him before, for sure, but he finally agreed.

Mona looked for her phone to type it there but she couldn't find it. "God," she exclaimed. "Where is it?"

"Maybe you forgot it at Steve's," Ellie said. It made the guard guy look suspicious.

"He's not my boyfriend," Mona assured him.

"Here," Ellie picked up her own phone and handed it to the bodyguard. "You can type your number on this one, so she can call you," she offered.

"Thanks," Mona whispered to her while he was typing.

"I just hope you will remember me in the morning," he said afterwards smiling but he was a little worried.

"I'll write down _Call the nice guy with a gun_ the first thing I come home," she said because she _knew_ he was carrying a gun although she hadn't seen any. Well, she didn't really look for it, either.

"Great," he laughed. "See you later, then."

Not only that Mona was drunk, now she was even infected with this affection. And as she claimed earlier, she wrote down to call him so she wouldn't forget. She didn't want to forget about somebody that perfect. Somebody who could make her holiday even better.

When they woke up, their heads were aching. They forgot to expect that. But fortunately for them, it usually didn't take them long to get the hangover away. They were young so they could handle it.

Soon they realised Steven was already gone so they were alone in the apartment. Mona knew she needed to remember something. She was going through the last night over and over again until she finally remembered. Even without her little note left on the fridge.

"I need to call him," she shouted what made Ellie's head ache even more.

"Turn it down a bit, please," she begged.

"I need to call him," Mona repeated.

"Who?" Ellie asked without caring.

"That guy from yesterday. He gave me his number," she explained. "Wait! No, I didn't have my phone..." she was thinking out loud. "I need you phone!" she shouted again. "Where is it?"

"In my purse, probably," Ellie whispered. Then she drank some coffee to get better. It woke her up slightly.

"But what's his name?" she wondered.

"I don't know. I guess you need to search the whole list."

"Dammit!" The name list was really long and with her luck it would be at the end anyway. But she would never start at the end. "Paul? Seth?" she kept asking herself.

"I doubt that," Ellie opposed. And she went back to drinking coffee. When the coffee was over, she went to the bedroom to get dressed. She already took a shower but it didn't make her feel better as it usually did. Maybe it was because of different continent, she thought. She had a lot of time because her contact list was filled with people most of whom she have never called, but also, Mona spent at least ten second on each male name to think whether it could be him or not. She was almost sure she would know immediately when she saw his name but she better double checked.

"Lisa?" Mona called from the kitchen and traversed to the bedroom to talk to Ellie. She calls her Lisa almost all the time. She really liked the idea that when they connect their names, Mona Lisa comes up. She also liked giving their friendship a special meaning.

"Yeah," she reacted. "Have you found it?"

"No. Not yet. I just wanted to know...," she kept staring at her phone. Then she looked at Ellie. "Who's The Big Player?" Mona wanted to know.

But Ellie looked as surprised as Mona. She didn't remember anybody who'd she call like that. Was it a male or a female? She tried to find the answer in her mind, in her memory but nothing came up. Until...

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed amazed.

"Who is it?" Mona asked again suspiciously.

She didn't answer immediately. She had got a little lost in her memories. "Just some guy," she responded absently after a while.

"Do I know him?"

"I don't think so."

"Are you sure?"

Ellie just laughed. "You really don't know him," she said convinced this time.

"Tell me about him," Mona insisted.

"Why don't you look for your guy instead?" Ellie tried to change the topic.

"I am. But in the meantime you can tell me his story."

"I don't know his story," she tried to make Mona stop asking about him.

"You know what I mean. How did he get into your phone?" Mona wouldn't let it go.

"We met something like a year ago at one party. We had fun and he gave me his number and told me to call him when I would be around," she said the short version.

"Did you sleep with him?"

"Maybe," Ellie admitted.

"Maybe like you don't know..." Mona kept bothering her.

"Of course I know," she claimed but didn't want to tell more. She remembered that after she had this _thing_ with Dean, she promised herself not to tell anybody about it. She wanted to keep it for herself only.

"Where is he from?"

"It doesn't matter," she said and then picked up a brush to comb her hair. She was looking in the mirror because she didn't want to look at Mona. It would make Mona think she could ask her more. This way, Mona went back to searching.

"Zack!" she exclaimed. "I knew it!"

"If you knew you wouldn't need to search the whole list," Ellie reminded her still not looking at her.

"Should I call him now?" she wondered when she sat down on bed behind Ellie.

Ellie quickly glanced at the clock. "No. It's only ten. He is still sleeping."

"You're right. When my father used to have night shifts, he used to come home around five," she remembered. "I'll call him after lunch," she added. "But that gives us a lot of time to talk about The Big Player."

When Ellie heard that nickname it made her laugh again. "I don't want to talk about him."

"You kept his number. That means you have no reason for being angry with him."

"I'm not angry with him," she denied while smiling. Then she went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. At ten it was more like brunch, though.

Mona followed her. "Why don't you want to tell me? You know I'm not going to tell anybody."

"I know," Ellie said.

"Please," she begged.

"Okay." But before she started talking, Steve came back from the meeting.

"Hey, girls," he said.

"Hi," they responded.

"I'll tell you later," Ellie whispered to Mona.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I come amiss?"

"Not really. Ellie was just about to finally tell me about this guy she had a fling with a year ago and she kept his phone number," Mona explained.

"Thanks," Ellie responded ironically.

"Well, I wouldn't mind hearing that. I'm a guy so I can maybe help with explaining his action or anything."

"Tell us, tell us, tell us," Mona and Steven begged like little kids. Ellie couldn't had done anything else but tell them.

"Last year when I won that grant for my project, I went to America to do some research, you know that," she addressed her words to Mona. "I was here for a couple of days and in my free time I visited a certain party. I was there alone and sometimes bored."

"Yeah. Never go alone to a party," Steve said.

"So you found somebody to have fun with?" Mona guessed.

"No. We exchanged looks, then we talked and I don't how but he made me go to his hotel room."

"Ooh, that sounds romantic..." Steve uttered ironically.

"He wasn't from there?" Mona wanted to know.

"No. It was something like a business trip," Ellie lied but just a little bit since he was there to work, actually. "Anyhow, he was charming for a while, then it appeared he wasn't single as he claimed before."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too," Ellie admitted. "His girlfriend called him and when she found out, she broke up with him.

"What did he do?" they asked.

"He had got me under his spell again. And I slept with him anyway."

"Wow," Mona exclaimed surprised.

"To me he sounds pretty confident," Steve admitted.

"He was," Ellie remembered.

"How was it?" Mona asked.

"From one to ten? Unimaginable."

"So why haven't you met him again?" Steven asked. "Or... have you?"

"No. You know, in the morning I wanted to leave," she continued. "But we talked for a while. About nothing in particular. Then, before I left, he said something like I should give him a call when I want to play again."

"Excuse me, but he sounds like a jerk to me," Mona said.

"He can be both a gentleman and a jerk," Ellie let them know.

"If it was that amazing, why didn't you call him?" Steve wanted to know.

"He's American and I haven't been there since."

"Now you are," he reminded her. "Where exactly does he live?"

"I don't know. But I suppose he's not at home anyway. He travels a lot." Even if she wanted to see him again, she had no idea where he could be. This year there was a lot of studying for her so she have stopped watching wrestling. She had been watching it for years but there was no time anymore. Therefore she didn't hear about him. Maybe he didn't wrestle anymore. She simply had no relevant information.

After the conversation they didn't talk about it anymore. Mona didn't want her to talk to him because she still thought he was a jerk who only wanted to sleep with her. And she was not his only victim. He was a regular ladies man.

On the other hand, Steven had a different opinion. In his eyes, he was a macho. And one-night stand was according to him nothing bad as long as people used protection. He rejected the idea of one woman only policy. But he knew Ellie only since yesterday. They became friends right after but still he didn't feel he was the one to tell her anything. It was her decision after all.

In the afternoon, Mona called Zack and they settled on a date that evening. It wasn't a problem for him to get a night off. What Mona didn't realise was that she doing exactly the same thing as Ellie a year ago. Zack was somebody she didn't know and wanted to sleep with him anyway. One couldn't talk about a deeper relationship since she was in Las Vegas only for a couple of days. Girls went to America for ten days including the days of travel plus there was a day which they wanted to spend in New York. That left Mona slightly a week to enjoy her new discovery. Of course only in case their date would go well.

While Mona was out, Ellie and Steven decided to attend another show. It was an acrobatic show in a style of Cirque the Soleil this time. After the marvellous performance they went to a bar to have a cocktail. That night, they didn't want to get drunk like they did the night before. They just wanted to have a nice talk and get to know each other better.

When there was some alcohol in them, they were naturally more talkative.

"Are you still thinking about that guy?" Steve asked.

"I wasn't before. Now... yeah, a little bit," she admitted.

"You want to see him again, don't you?"

"I guess I do. It was a long time ago and I'm not sure if I remember it as it really was. Maybe I overrate that experience. Maybe it wasn't _that_ good."

"Or maybe it was even better," Steve interrupted her.

"God..." she exclaimed.

"Call him."

"It's not that easy."

"You've got his number, you can call him."

"He wouldn't remember me," she thought.

"I would," he admitted. "I know what you women think about men but if we experience such an extraordinary sex with a girl, we remember. Okay, maybe I don't remember her name or... what she looked like, but the memory is still there," he was trying to convince her.

"How many women have you slept with?" she asked.

"I don't know. Eight, maybe."

"I'm sure this guy has slept with at least thirty girls."

"Men lie, you know. Maybe you just misjudge him. Or even if it's true, does it matter? Do you want to have a relationship with him?"

"No, of course not," she stopped him. "I just think he wasn't really interested in me. He probably didn't even give me his real number," she realised.

"Try it," he insisted.

She didn't think much about it, she picked up her phone and dialled his number.

"Hello?" asked a voice on the other side. She hanged up immediately.

"So?" Steve wanted to know the result. But she just sat there, speechless.

"Well, the number is real," she said surprised. She still couldn't believe it.

"It seems like he really was interested in you."

"But why?" she wondered. "He could sleep with a different girl every night. Why would he want me to sleep with him again?"

"Don't overthink it. Men really don't like that."

"You're right. But I don't know where he is. But wait!" she exclaimed. "I can find on the internet whether there is any show these days."

"A show?" Steve asked. "Is he a kind of performer?"

"Kind of, yeah. He's a wrestler," she said before realising she made a big mistake.

"Great. I love wrestling. Is there any chance I could have heard of him?"

Ellie hesitated. But then she decided to tell him. "He works for WWE."

"Wait! Are you telling me you slept with a celebrity?"

"I wouldn't call somebody a celebrity just because he works there. But," she hesitated again. "He's a WWE superstar so he is. That's why it's so difficult to call him."

"OMG! Who is it?" Steve wanted to know. Ellie was biting her nails, she was afraid of his reaction. "But," he remembered something. "They are on a tour in Europe now."

"Oh," she exclaimed.

"Unless," he continued. "He's one of those who stayed here."

"I doubt that."

"Who is it anyway?"

"Dean Ambrose," she said finally.

"Dean Ambrose?" he repeated shocked. "I hate that guy!" he shouted.

"Why?" she laughed.

"He acts like he owns the place. He's so cocky and arrogant, but… when I think about it, he's a pretty good heel. He succeeded in making me hate him,' he admitted.

"That's true. He's impressive at what he does. But tell me, who do you like?"

"I admire technical wrestlers like CM Punk or Daniel Bryan."

"Well, I've always loved The Shield," Ellie admitted.

"I see, that's why it was so easy for Dean Ambrose to get you," Steven summed it up. "But I've got good news for you. Dean is not in Europe because he is injured," he slightly changed the topic.

"Is it bad?" she worried.

"You just called him, you tell me," he joked. "Just a broken arm, nothing serious," he continued. "It happened some time ago so it's probably fine now."

"And do you know where he is?"

"He's promoting a new WWE product."

"But where?" she cried.

"Los Angeles."

That was enough for her to know. Immediately she started to look for a plane ticket to get there as soon as possible. It was probable that he wouldn't spend a lot of time there. She better checked on different websites if he was still there. Fortunately for her, he was. Oddly, the most difficult thing was to make up a lie for Mona. If she found out about Ellie's little trip, she wouldn't let her go, for sure. So she reminded her that they decided to go to Los Angeles the night they got drunk, which was true, and she wanted to visit a couple of museums and other historical sites which didn't interest Mona. That way Mona would have more time for Zack and could join her later. This lie somehow worked on Mona, probably because she was so _in love_ that she didn't care about what her friend was doing.

Only on the plane Ellie realised how risky her plan was. But even if he wouldn't be interested in meeting her, there was a plenty of things to do in Los Angeles. And she booked a hotel room so she had a place to stay.

When she came to the hotel and unpacked those few things she brought there, she decided to call him. It was around five in the afternoon so she couldn't do a lot anyway.

After two beeps he picked up. "I don't know what you want but stop calling me," he said annoyed. He remembered the same number was calling him the day before.

"Hello," she responded before he could hang up. "I'm sorry for hanging up before," she said in a sweet voice.

"Who are you?" he wanted to know.

"I'm the girl..." she paused. What should she say? "who... We met a year ago at one party in Boston. I spent the night and in the morning you gave me your number to call you when I'm around," she did her best to remind herself to him. But it seemed like she failed.

"I'm sorry. What's your name again?" he asked.

"You called me Zoey... because you said I was calling you by a fake name too."

"Yeah," he exclaimed. "I remember you. So... why are you calling?"

"Well, I'm in Los Angeles."

"Did you come to Los Angeles to see me?" he wondered.

"I originally came to Las Vegas, for a holiday. But yes, to Los Angeles, I came to see you. Is that stupid?" It _sounded_ stupid to her.

"No. It's amazing actually. Do you want to stop by?" he offered her.

"Hm. I already came to Los Angeles. Why don't _you_ stop by in my hotel?" she asked confidently.

He appreciated her courage. "Okay," he said. Then she dictated him the address.

"See you then," she said and hung up before he would say anything.

When he didn't come in next hour, she got a little worried. She thought he wouldn't come at all maybe. But he did.

Exactly at eight o'clock, he knocked on her door. Before getting it, she checked herself in the mirror and put on the same bloody-red lipstick she wore the night they met.

"Hey," she said.

"I brought a bottle of champagne. Any chance you already have strawberries and cream?" he asked playfully.

"No. But if you want, I'm sure they have it in the hotel bar."

"We'll see. But first, let me tell you how wonderful you look."

"Thanks."

"You've changed," he mentioned.

"I'm older," she reminded him. "More experienced," she continued looking him in the eyes. "Come in," she told him finally when he was still standing in the hallway.

He did as she told him. He walked into the middle of the room where he put the bottle on the table. That was the first time she was able to see his injured arm which was until now hidden behind his back. Now she could see the bandage which surrounded the arm. Fortunately, there was no gypsum, it seemed like he could move with it without any problems.

"How is your arm doing?" she asked.

"It's healing," he uttered, not giving it any importance. "Did you see how it happened?" he asked her.

"No. I don't watch wrestling anymore."

"Since when?" he wanted to know.

"Hmm," she thought. "Since the time we slept together, I believe," she admitted.

"Oh. Couldn't you handle looking at me anymore or were you worried about me getting hurt?" he asked acting selfishly. To what she just smiled.

"You really aren't such an important person to me," she said, hurting his feelings a little. "I just had better things to do."

He didn't like hearing that. Not that she was important to him, it just hurt his pride. Instead, he poured the champagne into glasses and handed one to her.

"To us," he proposed.

"To no more lies," she said instead, referring to their previous night experience when they both lied a lot.

"I swear I don't have any girlfriend now," he remembered the last time when his girlfriend broke up with him because of the girl who was sitting opposite to him now. In the corner of the room, there were two armchairs and a table between them. That was where they were sitting and having a chat.

"Do you?" he asked her. Then he realised how stupid his question was. "Of course not," he answered himself. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

"Also," she said. "I'm here only because of my friend."

"What?" he didn't understand.

"Believe it or not, I totally forgot about you."

"Yeah, I don't believe that," he said smiling.

"I came to Las Vegas with my friend to celebrate our graduation. Accidentally, she bumped into your number in my phone."

"And she recognized me and told you to call me?" he guessed.

"No and no. Firstly, the name was _The Big Player_ so she had no idea who that could be."

"Right. That was what I typed," he remembered.

"Moreover, she doesn't know you," she added. "And secondly, when I told her about you, she said you were a jerk and she certainly didn't want me to see you again."

"Hmm, but you're here anyway."

"When I called you the first time and hung up immediately, I was checking if the number you gave me was real. I was a little surprised when I found out it was. That made me come here, actually," she admitted.

"I'm glad you did."

"Anyway, how are you doing in wrestling? Are you still a champion?"

"Why are you asking?"

"I'm curious."

"You need to choose whether you want to be with a celebrity or with a regular person," he gave her a choice.

"Look, _Dean_," she emphasized, "I don't really care about that. I'm not going to make you talk about your career nor about your personal life. You choose which person you want to be in front of me. Do you know why I said no more lies?"

"Because people don't like being lied to," he said confidentially.

"You're wrong. We lie to people we care about. And we're certainly not here to become friends. You mean nothing to me, I mean nothing to you. Therefore, there's no need for lies." Her attitude surprised him. She was careless but not rude. She was being nice, actually. What she said made sense. And he liked it. It was just not typical.

"Do you do this often?" he wondered.

"I don't this at all. You're the only exception."

"So what's going to happen next? Since you have it planned..."

"It's not a plan. Just a suggestion," she explained. But he was still feeling a little uncomfortable. She acted like a boss although she probably didn't realise it. This time he was the one feeling insecure.

"Okay," he said. That was when she noticed how he felt. She felt sorry but didn't know how to make it up for him. "Give me a minute. I need to go to the bathroom," he excused himself.

When he was inside, she realised what she should do, what could help. She took out her phone from her hand-bag and connected it to the stereo. She made it just in time.

As soon as he stepped out, the music, announcing The Shield was coming, started to play. He was confused but when he heard it, he couldn't resist smiling. It gave him his confidence back. In reality, it made him get into his wrestling character. He became an arrogant heel who wanted everything for himself. Who craved for victory. Who would never give up.

She had to admit she had got a little goosebumps. She could see, hear and feel his confidence. In that moment he became a lion. She was about to become his dinner. But she was scared only for a moment. That was what she wanted. She made this happen and that gave _her_ confidence. She still was the one who ruled this.

She fearlessly stepped in front of him looking him in the eyes. Unfortunately, she forgot the song wouldn't last forever. Before she could prevent it from happening, the song of Chris Jericho started to play. But it didn't upset him, he just smiled.

"So you're Chris Jericho tonight," he said.

"I suppose I am," she smiled too.

"I can kick his ass anytime, you know," he said. She really liked Chris, his style, his energy, and also the fact that he was a rock singer at the same time. He really was a celebrity. But since she didn't watch wrestling anymore, she didn't know if he was still active or not. He was getting old so maybe he spent more time with his family at that time.

While she was thinking about Chris, it seemed like Dean was thinking about something too. But he didn't say what it was. He just said, "Wait here. I'll be right back." Then he took his phone and went outside. When he came back a minute later, he still didn't say anything.

"So do you want to fight?" she asked him. He didn't know how to respond. It seemed to him that both answers would be wrong. But he didn't know her. She wouldn't get offended or anything.

"Not yet," he answered after a while. Then he remembered what to do. "You know, before we start fighting, the announcers usually say something about us.

"I've never heard them saying anything about you. Moreover, the facts they say are the country of origin and weight... And I'm not going to tell you either of them."

"I don't need you to tell me how much you weight," he laughed. "But why don't you tell me where you are from?" he demanded.

"Europe. That's all I can say. And anyway, I like to travel so you almost never find me in a country of my origin," she explained to him.

"Fair enough," he sighed. "But how come you've never heard anything about me?"

"The commentators sometimes mentioned something."

"Like what?" he wanted to know.

"Like when you were younger, you were fighting under the pseudonym Jon Moxley. And you took part in those fights where participants are allowed to use all kinds of dangerous stuff like chains or... I don't know. I've never seen it."

"They lie sometimes, you know. But most of this is really true. What else do they say?"

"That it makes you resistant against pain. That you can take anything and you don't give up," she continued.

"That's right. I don't," he repeated confidently.

"Now can we go back to fighting?" she asked him hopefully in a sweet voice. The kind of voice that would get the person anything. And he couldn't resist. But there was still something missing.

"We need one more thing," he told her. But as soon as he pronounced those words, somebody knocked on the door. "I'll get it," he said knowing who was waiting behind the door.

When he thanked the person that brought him something, he closed the door again and commanded her, "Close your eyes." She did. Then he turned off the light but it still wasn't enough as it was spring and the sunset still wouldn't come. He passed her by and continued to the windows where he closed the curtains.

"What are you doing?" she was worried.

"Nothing illegal," he just said. When he moved to her again he gathered her disobedient long hair to get them off the way. "Keep your eyes closed," he whispered to her ear. He wanted to put something on her but found troubles doing it with only one fully-usable arm. "Could you move your arms backwards?" he pleaded. When she did so, he could get the surprise done. Then he just did the final thing to get the magic trick started. "You can open them now," he whispered again.

Then she saw what an amazing thing he did. He probably asked somebody to buy and bring him the same jacket Chris Jericho wears. And now that she was wearing it she really turned into him. And what was the darkness for, you ask? When he walks in the ring, the lights go off, he turns his back to the crowd, spread his arms and his jacket becomes the most sparkling object in the area.

And now it was her. She was so happy she looked up at Dean who was smiling too and she couldn't resist kissing him.

"Thanks," she exclaimed. He grinned but then became serious.

"I have no intention in kissing my opponent. Who's male by the way," he played his role.

"Then you need to stop him by force," she said and tried to kiss him again. This time she wasn't successful. It was because he lifted her up in the air.

"I shouldn't do this," he remembered that he was injured.

"Then put me on the ground," she begged.

"No," he responded. Instead, he moved away his right arm so now he was holding her only with one hand. But he didn't mind. He was strong enough. When she tried to escape, he just held her tighter. "I'm not going to let you win," he whispered to her.

He threw her up a little so he could take the jacket away. He was holding her ass with one hand and taking off her Jericho jacket with the other one. And he threw it away, it probably fell on the bed behind them. When his arm started to hurt, he moved her down but he still didn't let her feet touch the floor. She was permanently trying to stretch her feet to reach the floor but she failed.

"Do you have a problem?" he joked. She reached for his arm to get it away from her but she was so much weaker than him. It didn't make him move it at all. So she did the only thing she knew that would work.

And when she did it, he really did let go, screaming. "You bit me!" he shouted but he wasn't hurt. Just a little bit annoyed.

"Well...," she just said without meaning to explain it.

He stopped caring about his arm; he used both hands to hold her. One was holding her back and the other one he used to prevent her from doing it again by controlling her head. And when the pain was totally over, he kissed her passionately. He did it as a punishment. He wasn't tender, he wouldn't stop, either. Nothing would stop him. But it was not enough. He was making up a better plan in his mind.

He lifted her up again, this time more comfortably for him, and carried her over to the bathroom where he put her in the shower and poured cold water on her. She was screaming but he wouldn't let her get out. Then he realised somebody could hear her and think she was in a trouble. He certainly didn't want that to happen so he stopped. She had enough, anyway.

"That was cruel," she accused him. She really seemed to be in a bad condition. She was shaking. He felt sorry and regretted his stupid idea.

But what he didn't know was that she just pretended to be hurt. And when he expected it the least, she did the same thing to him. Of course, she wasn't strong enough to put him inside so now there was water everywhere. The whole floor in the bathroom was wet but who cared? They were having fun. Like little kids. Except for they were adults and all they did had a sexual undertone.

Without any further foreplay, he took off her green T-shirt and jeans, leaving her only in her white underwear. But before touching her naked body, he wanted to change the score. He carefully ran out of the bathroom, so he wouldn't slip on the floor, and only stopped on the balcony to open it up. When she realised what he was doing, it was too late. He was already on the balcony, letting her clothes fall on the ground in the street.

When he came back inside, he secured the door on the balcony with an armchair to prevent her from doing the same thing to him. He found her staring at him with hate in her eyes. But he didn't care. He was happy because he was winning now. Also, he liked what his eyes saw. Her almost naked body, illuminated by the bathroom light.

But she was furious. He was aware of the difficulty of getting her. It became a mission for him. It was almost like a mission impossible. But there was no escape what made it easier for him. He was sure that she wouldn't leave this room in her underwear.

She craved for revenge. She was trying so hard to make up a plan but she couldn't. Unless...

He was wondering what she was about to do. He had no idea. He was almost sure there was nothing what would make the score even again.

Still standing in front of him, only each of them was in a different end of the room, she took off her bra and threw it away. Then she did the same thing with her panties. She was standing there totally naked. He was right when he thought she had nowhere to run. But neither had him. Except now she was at peace with her situation. Moreover, it gave her an advantage. Because now he was the one who was losing. She knew, and she could see, that he was craving for her. But this was revenge. She didn't mean to surrender to him. He could only look. He wasn't allowed to touch.

He was breathing heavily, realising what she was doing to him. He tried to look away, but it was impossible. He wanted her so much it hurt.

But it was still not enough for her. She took him by his hand and made him follow her into the bathroom. She left him standing there while she was taking a shower. When she was done, he watched the water dropping off her angelical body. She moved towards him and used her towel to get him closer to her. When he felt her body touching him, he _had to_ kiss her. He was going crazy but she kept teasing him. She wouldn't let him kiss her.

She took off his T-shirt leaving him half-naked. Then she used the towel again, this time to cover his eyes so he couldn't see anything. She glued her body to his and started to kiss his neck. Slowly she moved to his ear, leaving her saliva everywhere, then his cheek, and when she was almost kissing his lips, he couldn't handle it anymore. He took her by kissing her as passionately as never before. She was the only women that he let to tease him but he just had enough of it.

Unfortunately, she disagreed. She wouldn't allow him to get her. At least not yet. Instead, she stepped backwards and kept staring at him. Teasing him. He erased the distance between them and tried to kiss her again but she moved her head away so he only hit the air. Then she touched his body and felt how sweaty he was. He was turned on perfectly. She was playing this game the right way. With an evil smile on her face, she slipped her hand into his trousers to make sure his tool of destruction was as hard as a rock. But before it would make him feel good, she took her hand out leaving him desperate.

He wouldn't let her stop him from what he wanted anymore. He took off his trousers but he kept his underwear on. He was sure this slight piece of fabric wouldn't stay on him for long. Then he approached her, becoming a panther. Playing a game is nice but it needed to stop. But before he attacked her, he got his trousers away, he transferred them outside the bathroom and when he was there, he decided he better left his briefs there too.

Totally naked he came back but didn't spot her. She was hiding behind the door which she closed immediately when he entered the bathroom. She glued herself on his back making him feel her warm pulsing body. She tied her arms around his stomach. Then he locked the door although it was completely unnecessary. She moved her hands a little more below where she found a toy. To secure that she would spend some time there this time, he pressed her small hands, in comparison with his manly hands, and wouldn't let them run away. Her slow breath on his upper back was very comfortable.

"I want more," he whispered. Then he took her hands and turned around so now he was facing her. She didn't want to protest anymore so she grabbed his one hand, which was holding her anyway, let go of the other one and guided him into the shower-unit. She closed the door so that they wouldn't produce a mess on the floor again, and let the water fall on them. The water was comfortably warm this time.

As Dean's hair was all wet and therefore it was falling on his eyes, he needed to move them away so he could see the gorgeous girl in front of him. He moved her hair away too so there was nothing in the way. Then he finally kissed her. He was ready to do more but she stopped him.

"Wait," she exclaimed. "Do you have a protection?" she asked since she wasn't using any pills for she didn't have a boyfriend.

He just smiled provocatively. "Can there be a better protection than _The_ _Shield_?" he asked referring to shield both as a part of an armour and his wrestling squad consisting of himself, Roman Reigns and Seth Rollins. But when he saw she didn't consider his joke very funny, he said, "I'll get it."

When he returned, there was nothing standing in the way of getting her. He got the satisfaction he longed for. And so did she.

The following morning was different. Nobody wanted to escape. Nobody hurried to get away. They lied in bed for hours. They were enjoying each other's presence for they knew it wouldn't last forever.

"When is your friend supposed to come?" Dean asked because she already told him every detail of her trip there and he was a little worried she would come when he was still in her hotel room.

"I don't know. But I don't care either," she responded.

"What if she knocked on the door now?"

"That couldn't happen. She will call first. Don't be worried. Nobody's going to find you here," she tried to calm him down. It helped a little bit.

Then they were talking again. This time he was the one who revealed his secrets to her. And she was more than happy to hear them. He trusted her enough to be sure she wouldn't tell anybody. Why would she anyway? These were no secret tactics. The things he said were worthless.

"Zoey," he called her by her fake name again since she didn't want to tell him her real name. But she said she didn't mind this one. Actually, she liked it, but she didn't tell him that. "You live in England, right?"

"I don't. I only study and work there."

"And will you be there in the autumn?"

"Yes. Most of the time," she specified.

"I suppose you already know there's a tour in Europe." When she nodded, he continued, "In November, we'll have a show in London. Don't you want to come?" he asked playing with her hair so it wouldn't seem like he was too concentrated on her answer.

"Are you trying to invite me to see your match?"

"Excuse me, _trying_?" he got offended for effect. "I'm inviting you. Don't call it trying, please," he continued.

She kissed him to make up. But she didn't apologize or anything.

"So will you come?" he asked when she didn't respond.

"I don't think so," she said finally.

"Why not?" he was surprised.

"Because I don't want to," she said like it was no big deal.

Her words hurt him. He took his hand away from her hair and he moved away from her. But she wouldn't let him. She used her force to stop him. Then she crawled on top of him and looked him in the eyes.

"I don't want to see the show," she repeated. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to see you. Those two nights we spent together were amazing," she admitted. "If you want to repeat them, just call me. You really don't need to invite me to a wrestling show just to cover your real desires." Then she kissed him again.

He was not totally satisfied with what she said but he let go and kissed her instead. With her still lying on him, he lifted her up so he could sit down leaning against the end of the bed behind him. Then he made her sit in his lap. He held her by his back and pushed her closer to him. He kissed her again and again and again. He wouldn't have enough. And soon he was making her his complice again.


	3. Summer

**III. SUMMER**

"Look at this!" she shouted holding a piece of newspaper in her hand.

Although she was gone for at least an hour, he was still in bed. Actually, he felt asleep again as soon as she left.

"Oh, did I wake you up?" she asked. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. It's late; I needed to get up anyway. So... what did you want me to see?" He sat up and started to focus on her. He yawned one more time but refused to let his brain shut down again.

She didn't respond, just threw him the paper.

"What should I look for?" he asked when he was turning pages without finding anything interesting.

"The last page," she explained.

"Oh," he exclaimed when he finally saw it. But he didn't seem to be upset or angry. "You look good," he gave her a compliment.

"But...," she started but then she realised she had nothing to say. "I didn't want this to happen," she told him when she found the words.

"Zoey, they don't know you," he said calmly. "If someone should worry about this picture, it should be me. Do I look worried?" he asked her.

"No," she was made to say. Her voice still sounded sad. But he didn't want her to be upset. He took her hand and showed her to sit down next to him. Then he looked her in the eyes but she didn't want to make any eye contact with him so he needed to grab her head and gently force her to look at him. Then she smiled and he kissed her.

"We have been hiding this for three years; one picture doesn't mean we failed."

"You're right," she smiled forcedly. He kissed her again to make it better.

"Well," he continued. "I'm no hockey player, I'm no football player, I'm not big sport star," he spoke ironically but it was true. "I cannot get you the front page, I'm sorry," he joked. It made her laugh a little bit so he was satisfied. He gave her one last little kiss on her nose this time and he finally got up.

"Now, let's get some breakfast," he proposed and started putting on his clothes.

"I've got cereals, fruit, milk..." she enumerated items she bought in the shop distant no more than five minutes from the beach house he rented for them.

"No. I mean a nice breakfast in the centre," he explained.

"But I just came from the shop with fresh food. You told me you wanted baguettes."

As he was done with dressing up, he approached her and kissed her on her neck. "I lied," he admitted. "I needed to get you out so that I could sleep a little longer." She would get angry but he was so sweet and smiling at her. That made her smile too. "Now put that baguette away," he took it away from her hand and put in on the table, "and let's go outside."

"But," she wanted to protest.

"Don't worry."

Later that day as they were lying on the beach he brought up the newspaper thing.

"What was the article saying?" he wanted to know.

"You didn't even read it?" she wondered. But she should have known. She knew him well enough. "It said that some mysterious girl walked into your hotel room in Alberta on Monday and was spotted leaving the following morning. And on Friday, probably the same girl was seen kissing you on your hotel balcony in Montreal. They couldn't find out her name or where she was from. They supposed she was around twenty-five and they posed a question at the end. Could this attractive brunette be the reason behind Dean Ambrose's failed relationship?"

He liked the way she was saying it. She put so much fake passion into it, it turned him on. But he was interested in the article, too. "So basically, they say you've ruined my relationship," he said provocatively.

"Excuse me! Was I cheating?"

"Nah, that was me," he admitted jokingly. "Again," she made him say. "But did I tell Barbara you were my cousin?" he acceded to her game.

"And that was me. But you should have told me you had found somebody instead of calling me to meet you in your hotel room. Where, _by the way_," she emphasized, "I ran into your girlfriend," she reminded him.

"Do you realise we always meet in a hotel room?" he changed the subject because it captured his attention, and also he didn't want to talk about his ex-girlfriend who wasn't that into him anyway. And the same went for him.

"We're not in a hotel room now," she reminded him.

"But you know what I mean. Why don't you visit me at home sometime?" he offered.

"No," she declined it immediately. "That's out of discussion," she definitely ended that topic. Again. He tried to make her come to his home a lot of times but she was against it. She never gave any reason, and she never wanted to talk about it. But he tried again and again. And he was sure that one day she would accept his offer. "And, by the way, that would get me another picture in the newspaper," she continued.

"I don't think so. The paparazzi are not interested in you. No offence. They're not interested in me either. It was only because of Barbara. We kind of were a celebrity couple," he explained to her. "And moreover, we are doing this long enough and nobody had ever noticed anything. Nobody cared. And I believe they still don't. People just don't understand why I and Barbara parted. If they wanted to know about us, they would find out a long time ago."

When she thought about it, she really had no reason to be worried. Nobody knew who she was. And what's more, she doesn't live in America. In Europe, there isn't even this newspaper. Her secret was safe. And if somebody finds out, she's not doing anything illegal anyway.

This was the first time they were on a holiday together. Before, they only visited each other three or four times a year. She was usually the one visiting him. But never at home, never in some pretty restaurant in the town. She always called him when she was around. Actually, that's not true. She simply called him when she was planning a travel to the U.S. It didn't matter that she needed to go to New York and he was in California. They met anyway. Distance was never a problem for them. And when he came to Europe, or even to the north coast of Africa, he insisted on meeting her. For she travelled a lot, he never knew in advance where she was. She resided in Great Britain but often she spent a couple of months in Italy, Spain, France or Germany. And no matter if she had time for him, he made her come to see him. But never the show, in case he had one in Europe, only him.

They loved seeing each other, having this secret affair. Although they had a rule not to cheat on their boyfriends or girlfriends. If it was up to him, he would cross out this rule for he didn't mind cheating on his current girlfriend. He wouldn't even call it cheating. He said that as long as you don't love that person, it's not cheating. But she was stricter. She said one at a time. But her advantage was that if she was in a relationship, she would end it before it got too serious and therefore she was single again when she was meeting Dean.

There was another rule. It wasn't a rule in reality but they never contacted each other. They never wrote, never called, and never wished each other merry Christmas or happy birthday. During the casual time, they were forgetting about having this affair. They were not thinking about the other person. It was almost as if they had two lives. One filled with work, family, friends... And the other one, the secret one, started when they met each other, kissed and spent all their free time with each other. They were always together for only a couple of days, or, a couple of nights, if you wish. At those nights, he refused to attend any activity that was planned for him. That meant, especially no parties. He wanted to spend with her as much time as he could. He liked getting intimate with her; he would never say he was not in a mood. And the same went for her. In those days, she would do anything to make him happy. But when it was over, the last kiss brought their real life back to them.

They successfully kept hiding this from their family, their friends. More than three years had passed since they met, indeed. He was so glad he decided to give her his number. And she was so glad she decided to call him. Actually, it wasn't totally her decision. Steve gave her the courage. But she didn't want him to know. She had seen him maybe once since the time she and Mona went to Las Vegas. When she came back from Los Angeles to Las Vegas, Steve asked her about Dean. She lied to him and told him they hadn't met. She told him all kind of bullshit just to hide the truth. It was easier with Mona for she didn't even know about the real reason behind the trip to Los Angeles. Back in those days, she was happy to have that guard guy. But the day Ellie and Mona went back home was the last time they saw each other. At least that was what Mona had told Ellie. It should be true. Unless she lied the same way Ellie still does to hide her affair with Dean. Anyway, Mona and Ellie didn't meet often anymore. Mona had got a job in Germany so she moved there. Ellie goes to Germany sometimes but she would never move there for good. She doesn't speak the language which she doesn't want to learn either because she hates it. There are other countries she loves.

Zoey, as Dean still called her, and Dean have got to know each other pretty well. But they weren't facts the things they knew. They knew their true nature, behaviour which they had no reason to hide from each other. Facts like date of birth, country of origin and job were not important. Of course, for Dean was a professional wrestler, it wasn't difficult for Zoey to find it on the internet. When he used the argument that she knew much more about him than he did about her, he thought it would make her tell him something personal about herself. That way, he found out something about her family, her friends, what she liked and what she hated but she would never tell him where she was from, or, her name, for instance. He didn't know what she did for a living or her address, either. She had a strict policy about it. And she made him promise he wouldn't hire some detective or anything to find out. Otherwise, this little romance would be over. He definitely didn't want that to happen.

What made this week so different from the others was that firstly, they weren't spending it in a hotel room. Dean rented a beach house, or borrowed it from his friend. She didn't know because he didn't tell her exactly. When he offered her to take her on a holiday, she refused immediately. It took him a lot of energy to make her say yes. But he didn't want to give up. And finally, he succeeded. They were here. In a little village in Florida where they had all time for themselves. That meant they were spending together not only nights but days too. Therefore, he could take her to restaurants; they could sunbath on the sunny beach or swim together in the ocean. Simply said, they were free to do things that weren't possible under the eyes of people. And that brought them even closer to each other.

At one night, when it was dark enough outside and everybody was sleeping, they were left alone on the beach. They were cuddling under the moon which shone on them. The beautiful stars above them were not important as they had eyes only for each other.

"I wish we could stay here forever," he whispered softly into her ear while holding her in his arms.

"I wish we could swim naked in the ocean," she said.

"We can," he smiled.

She looked around and felt insecure. She thought somebody could show up and find them. She shook her head when she saw that Dean liked her idea.

"Come on," he insisted but she protested.

Unlike her, he was not afraid of anything. He wanted to do it. And he knew she did too, it was her idea after all, she was just a little scared. He knew her well enough to know what do it in a situation like this. He used raw force. Playfully, he teased her to take off her clothes. When she didn't do it, he took off his own clothes and left her on the blanket alone for effect. He spent a couple of seconds in the ocean, wearing no clothes, to show her how amazing it was. When she didn't follow him, he came back to kidnap her. She wanted to scream, but, fortunately, she realised it would make things only worse. Maybe they were alone now but after her scream it would change. So she shut her mouth up and kicked with her legs in the air in protest instead. That was useless, too. He kept walking and moreover, on the way, he took off her swimming suit.

Only in the water, he let go of her. She knew it was too late to go back, and even if she tried, he would get her again.

"Don't try to escape," he advised her preventively.

She looked back at the beach making him think she wanted to get away but before he would hold her, she smiled at him, dove into the water and swam away.

As soon as he realised she was trying to escape him, he quickly followed her. It didn't take long and he got her. But twice she shook him off so the next time he caught her, he made sure he was holding her tightly.

"Somebody's on the beach!" she exclaimed what made him look there and let go of her. This wicked lie gave her time to swim away from him.

He got angry and promised to himself not to let her slip away again. She tried to hide by diving under the water and holding her breath. It didn't help. He found her and she was made to chop out and get some air. Her long hair splashed water on him and she used her hands to do the same.

That made him hold her hands near her body. Her reaction was jumping on him and kissing him passionately. Of course that movement made them both fall down. But there was another consequence. As they were both naked, it turned them on.

Their pleasure lasted for long. They decided to go back to the house more than two hours later.

It was almost three in the morning when they lied down in the bed after showering off all the dirt from the water and the beach.

"Goodnight," she wished him as she lied down next to him. She closed her eyes but soon she was made to open them up again.

He wouldn't let her fall asleep. He leaned towards her and as she felt his breath on her face, she looked at him. He was staring at her for a while and then kissed her on her lips.

"Didn't you have enough?" she wondered.

As it was summer, he didn't need any blanket to cover with. On the other side, she wouldn't sleep without it. And also she wouldn't sleep naked. Normally.

Kissing her, he got one hand under her sheet searching for something interesting to touch. When he found it, it woke her up completely.

"So you're not going to let me sleep," she stated.

Not responding, he just kept doing his job. And he did it well. Before, they were just playing; now, he wanted it to be serious. He didn't want to joke anymore. He just wanted to have her.

"I want you so bad," he told her.

And she knew there was no point in trying to stop him. They were leaving in two days anyway. And who knew how long it would take for them to meet again. Now he had a holiday. Soon he would be working again, far away from her. There were no planning actions in Europe or anywhere else outside the U.S. And as for her, she only used to go to America to attend some conferences, to have some presentations or to do research. Unfortunately, she knew there was not a single reason to travel to America in near future. Therefore, this was the only time they could be together.

He planned to take her on a trip to France one day, which he didn't tell her about, but he knew it wouldn't be possible this year. Maybe the next one. But who can predict what will happen in future? There was possibility they wouldn't meet, that they wouldn't keep this relationship anymore. They never set any conditions about this. They said they would keep meeting each other as long as they were interested. For now, they were more than happy with what they had but they didn't know what the future would bring.

None of them thought about it. None of them realised it would end one day. One day which now seemed so far away.

As they fell asleep really late, they woke up in the afternoon. Dean was the first one, but even after realising what time it was, he didn't plan to get up. This holiday wasn't about sightseeing or spending lazy afternoons by the sea. They just wanted to spend time together, doing what they were used to.

First he was gazing at her but he knew she didn't like it. To prevent her from seeing it, he kissed her on the nose trying to wake her up gently. It didn't take long for her to open her eyes and start stretching in bed. It was accompanied with yawning.

"Good morning," she said.

"It's really not morning anymore," he corrected her.

"What time is it?" She reached for the clock on the bedside table but he stopped her.

"You don't want to know."

"Oh, I feel so tired."

"Yeah, we were busy all night," he smiled.

"Dean?" she looked at him. "I'm sorry but I don't feel like, no," she corrected herself, "I don't want to have sex tonight," she tried to say him politely to what he laughed.

"It's okay. I understand," he shared her tiredness. "We can just talk," he suggested.

"Talk?" She sat up surprised. "Like friends?" she asked.

"Yeah, why not? I believe we are friends...," he broke off. "Does that make us friends with benefits?" he wondered.

"No," she refused it. "We're definitely not that. We have too much sex for that," she laughed. "But...," she continued. "What are we?" she wanted to know.

It kept them thinking but it seemed like none of them could find out any name for what they had.

"Lovers?" he guessed.

"Maybe... But that's not very specific... Hey!" she screamed. "What about lovers with friendship?"

"That sounds pretty cool," he admitted. "But you know, you are the only friend of mine whose name I don't know."

"I don't know your real name either," she reasoned. "And... Dean Ambrose is pretty cool name."

He seemed to be thinking about something. "You like playing games, don't you?" he asked her already knowing the answer.

"Of course I do."

"I've got a great idea."

"I don't know what it is but I like it." She really liked the sparkle in his eyes which appeared when he talked about it. That made her think it had to be something amazing.

"They want to know who you are," he stated referring to the article in the newspaper about the two of them having an affair. He didn't need to explain, she knew. They knew each other long enough to understand the unspoken. "Why don't we tell them a little white lie?" he continued.

"You mean that I'll get a gimmick?" she asked happily.

Dean smiled and stroked her cheek. "Ah, you're so cute when you try to use wrestling terminology."

"I got it wrong," she guessed sceptically.

"Not totally, there's only one small mistake and that is, you're not a professional wrestler so the term gimmick is not applicable to this situation."

To make her feel better he kissed her on the tip of her nose.

"Okay, just tell me what you have got on your mind," she encouraged him to continue.

"I was wondering how everything could be explained. And… maybe we could say that you are my wife."

She chuckled at his solution.

"That's crazy," she laughed but it complimented her.

"Why?"

"You're not a kind of guy to get married," she said seriously. "And moreover, wouldn't that ruin your gimmick?" she knew that this time she used the word gimmick right.

"Well, either that or it will enforce it."

"I don't understand," she admitted and moved slightly away from him.

"The story is that we have separated, that's why we don't live together and I have another girlfriends or one-night stands, but we have never got divorced," he explained to her gently. "Now we are back together."

"I don't see how that would work for a heel like you," she expressed her doubts.

"There's a choice of turning face. Or…"

"Or?" she repeated.

"I can keep my heel appearance by saying that I was mistreating her and that was why she left me. I could also say that I was cheating on her regularly and she couldn't stand it anymore. And now I got her under my spell again, avoiding getting a divorce."

"But why wouldn't you want to get a divorce?" she wondered but was able to find the answer before he could say anything. "Because you don't want to let her leave with half of your money, right?"

He nodded and pulled her closed to him so that he could enjoy here presence.

She really started to like his made-up story. "But isn't this lie too cruel?"

"To whom?" he asked. "Paparazzi and people digging into my personal life deserve it."

"What about you?" she asked keeping an eye contact with him. "It would probably prevent some girls from sleeping with you," she said.

"I don't care," he responded. "As long as I've got my wife, I'm fine."

Hearing Dean referring to her as his wife made her smile. She showed him a beautiful smile and then she gave him a little kiss.

"You're a beautiful liar," she told him.

"You too," he whispered to her ear.

"So about these one-night stands..." she chose a topic to talk about.

"I didn't know you cared about them."

"I didn't," she admitted. "But now that I'm your wife..." she tried to play the role but she was really interested in them.

"You were a one-night stand too," he reminded her.

She often forgets about it. It was so long ago. People say they remember their first meeting like it was yesterday. Well, she didn't. It seemed so distant. When she came to that party, she felt like a little fish in sea of sharks. She was scared and shy. Then Dean appeared and took her away. She also remembered their first fight when she found out about his girlfriend. But she stayed anyway. Back then, she was looking at him like at a god. He was the mystical creature which was so much higher above her level. Now, he was the guy to whom she had shown her deepest desires. He was no better than her. Maybe better paid, more valued among people and definitely more famous than her but in this relationship, it meant nothing. In the three years that have passed since that night after the wrestling show, so many things have changed.

"I still am," she told him. "I'm just the one that stayed."

"In good times and in bad, in sickness and in health," he pronounced in an important voice. "Yeah, this feels like a marriage, indeed," he joked with some seriousness.

"And now you may kiss the bride," she continued.

He didn't care it was fake and they were only playing the marriage, he kissed her anyway. Any reason for kissing her, even a stupid one, was good.

"In case you decide to go with the face turn option, I've got a better idea," she suddenly interrupted the kiss. "A more romantic one."

"Romantic?" he asked a little disgustedly. "I didn't know you liked romance."

"I don't. You do," she turned it around.

"Me? Excuse me," he defended himself.

"No, I mean you Americans," she explained. "You have this need to destroy every film, or _movie_," she performed quotation marks, "if you like, with a stupid love story."

He was offended a little. "Hey!" he shouted. "It's my country you're talking about." He wasn't really angry with her; he knew she meant it well, in some perfectly hidden way. "You don't think Europe is better, do you?" he asked her although he knew what she would say.

"Of course I do. Europe is much older. At least it has been known for longer. I hate Americans who think America is the best. You argument can be valid only if you are an Indian. And _you_," she pointed at him, "are certainly not."

"But we are the number one economic, our president is the most powerful person in the world, people move here to achieve their dreams. You cannot argue with that."

"Also," she opposed fearlessly, "you were discovered by Europeans, _twice_," she emphasized, "people who claim to be Americans all the way have ancestors in Europe, you have become a world power practically over a night, and all knowledge you've got, you've got from other continents." She had got a little too far; she had to admit it herself. It wasn't even a subject she wanted to talk about.

"And after all, you're here in America, with an American citizen," he reminded her.

"I'm sorry," she apologised. "I didn't mean it," she lied but he saw her through.

"You did."

"Well, at least I didn't want to say it out loud. It's just... with a subject I study; you make an opinion about what happened and who caused it..." She forgot he haven't known about her area of interest and when she realised she was telling him something she didn't want him to know, she cut it off.

"Do you study politics?" he asked. He could believe it because she argued well, she was educated and she really knew a lot of facts from different areas.

"It's got a lot to do with it," she admitted. She knew there would be no meaning in trying to decline everything she said earlier so she just smiled and waited for him to find out.

"Law?"

"No, although I originally wanted to become a lawyer. But you know, in this area, there's a lot of dirt I don't want to get into," she explained but didn't tell him what he really wanted to know.

He gave up after a while of guessing. Then he remembered she was about to tell him something totally different when this little fight started.

"What's that romantic thing you want to add to my plan?" he asked her.

"Zoey is a girl you have been interested in for a very long time," she started explaining. "But she didn't feel the same way. And when you told her you loved her and wanted to be with her, she broke your heart and chose other guy instead of you. That was when you swore never to let your feelings show and chose the way of hurting other people instead. You have turned into a sick bastard because of here rejection. But you have never stopped thinking about her. And secretly, you have never stopped loving her. And when you were with Barbara, she suddenly appeared and told you she missed you so much and that she was wrong telling you never to contact her again. The paparazzi were right; she was the reason behind your break-up with Barbara. Also, she's Canadian so that's why you two met there and she spent a night..."

She was talking slowly so he could understand it and remember every single word she said. He also liked watching her getting a little emotional while she was talking about it. She was probably imagining it and he tried it too but his imagination was not as free as hers.

When she stopped, she went back to reality trying to smile and she waited for his reaction.

"I think they will love it," he said finally. "But," he hesitated. "Isn't she a little bitch?" he asked.

"A little bitch?" she laughed. "She created the monster named Dean Ambrose and she is the only one who can control you. I think you're her _little bitch_," she teased him. "She didn't want you when you were a normal person, and now that you've become a superstar, she's interested in you. And what did you do?" she posed a question which was about to answer without his help. "You let her into your sweet life of the rich," she kept playing.

"Another reason to hate Canada," he said.

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "Don't hate on Canada. It's got beautiful countryside, nice people, and most importantly, hockey. It's like a part of Europe. And it was also what now is Canada what Vikings discovered."

"Vikings?" he asked not understanding completely.

"Yes. Before Columbus in 1492, America was discovered by the Vikings much earlier," she explained to him. "Oh, and I forgot. Not only that your country was discovered by Europeans, it was named after the first person, _European_, who mapped the place, Italian Amerigo Vespucci."

"History," he exclaimed. "You're studying history, aren't you?" he guessed confidently.

She knew there was no point in denying. "Yes," she admitted finally.

"Is that why you hate America?"

"I don't hate it," she defended herself. "I just think it's overrated. The thing I hate is that people forget about the past, they don't care about old oriental and ancient empires. All they see is presence," she told him sadly.

"I don't think there's something you can do about it."

"I know. I just don't want to be one of them."

She kept staring at the floor thinking about life. How people are raised, how ignorant and selfish are they.

"Smile," he said to her and hugged her. This was the time she didn't need him to be her lover but her friend instead. He didn't understand her disappoint exactly but he knew it was in his power to make her feel better.

"Look at me," he told her and he meant it both literally and metaphorically. "I'm a wrestler. I fight for a living. Isn't it like back at those times when gladiators were fighting in the Coliseum?"

His lack of knowledge made it funny for her. She had to laugh.

"Yeah, you certainly fight for life," she joked.

"Have you seen those animals in the ring?" he asked ironically.

"I see foxes there all the time," she said.

"Why foxes?" he wondered still holding her in his arms.

"Because they're sly," she smiled. "You know what? I would like to see what it looks like in the backstage."

He wanted to tell her that he could get her there but he didn't say it. Instead, he said, "Like in any other zoo," he kept joking to keep her smiling. Because as long as she was smiling, he knew she was happy. And as long as she was happy, he was happy too.

Small house in a little village where only people residing there would be. Beautiful beach, never crowded. Ocean cutting the edge of that beach. Dreamingly blue sky, cloudless, not even thinking about destroying the sunny days with rain. But even if something outside would try to ruin their sweet escape, their house was full of dark curtains which they used only rarely. The bedroom was situated on the east so the sun became their personal alarm clock waking them up with its rays. The house with yellow walls outside, and mostly greenly orientated inside of the house, offered them a perfect shelter. And if it was still not good enough, there were trees surrounding it to hide them from unwanted looks of other inhabitants of this village. What looked like a regular summer house on the outside was in reality a pretty luxurious one. Not big though, but it was filled with useless appliances that were there only to show off. The owner of this house certainly wanted to have luxury hidden to prevent it from being suspicious. The fireplace, on the other side, was something necessary to make the place cosier.

And it really was cosy for them. But it was time for them to stop hiding in the shadow and go somewhere. Be together in a more social way. To avoid being recognised by somebody, Dean chose a performance he considered not to have any wrestling fans. Opera.

"I don't want to go to an opera," she cried.

"Me neither. See, that supports my theory. Either you love opera or wrestling. There is no middle way."

"I wouldn't be so sure. There are many intellectuals that like going to theatre. I myself like it. I just don't like operas," she tried to prove him wrong.

"Maybe you're not a wrestling fan. When was the last time you saw a wrestling match anyway?" he opposed.

She shamefully submitted. "Three years ago."

He rolled over his eyes although it was not new information for him, it was just for effect.

"But I'm a big fan of one wrestler," she reminded him omitting it's him. "Doesn't that count for being a wrestling fan, too?"

"A wrestler, you say...," he repeated. "Tell me about him."

She stepped aside, looked at the dress lying on the bed which were prepared for her to take to theatre tonight. They were long, glamorous, in a colour of violets. One sleeve was cut off totally, the other one was meant to wave freely underneath her arm.

She lifted it up carefully and placed the dress in front of her body. She imagined herself wearing it and totally forgot about Dean and the conversation they were having.

Dean approached her from the back and tied his arms around her. Then he rested his head on her shoulder and whispered into her hear, "What is he like?" trying to get her back to the presence.

She smiled without turning to him, so he couldn't see it. "He's an amazing lover," she started knowing it was something he liked to hear, "he's caring, strong," she couldn't omit as it was really true, "he's a great friend, too, who has unbelievable sense of fashion for somebody who wears the same black clothes all the time," she said to banter a little bit. But she really meant the part referring to the dress he picked and she was now holding in her hands.

"Is there anything else you would like him to know?" he asked.

"He's crazy," she continued, "because the fact we're in the same continent means for him that there's a reason to travel hundreds of miles to see each other. And he makes me believe the reason's really there. And he's crazy," she repeated, "because he gives meaning to what we have and he makes it special. And he makes me see an opera which neither of us like but we're about to go there anyway," she joked it off.

"I l...," he wanted to say something but he stopped. "I look forward to being there just to be there with you," he said instead. Then he left her alone in the room so that she could change.

After the performance they headed directly _home_, because none of them wanted to take a risk of getting another picture of them taken while going for a walk or having a dinner in a restaurant. And it was their last night together anyway. They were going home the next day. Dean didn't need to fly anywhere far away since he was staying in America but Zoey had to get back to Europe. She didn't tell him to which city, or even to which country, as it was her decision not to tell him anything she didn't want him to know. And as usual, he tried to persuade her to fly with him and go back home a couple of days later. Unfortunately, he was not good at it and what's more, she persuaded him that it wouldn't be a good idea. She told him all the things like they shouldn't risk being seen together, they should say goodbye here and then get to the airport separately. With her argumentative skills, it didn't take long to make him agree with everything she said. Instead, he gave in, not to waste more precious time that was left with her.

When they left the bathroom after they took a shower she headed to the bed where she had prepared her velvet nightgown. He had put his underwear, which he used to sleep in, on right after the shower while she had only tied a short towel around her body.

She changed and put on a dressing-gown which barely covered the top of her legs. Then she picked up a cigarette lying on the table and headed to the balcony. On the way there she also took a lighter.

She leaned over the rail, holding a cigarette in her right hand, staring at the dark sky. As her lungs were filling up with tobacco, she felt more and more relaxed. Even happy. It was so hot outside she had to loosen her dressing-gown, exposing her shoulders. The colour of her body was in contrast with black dressing-gown and darkness which was surrounding her.

She watched a couple on the beach. She had never seen them before; she had no interest in them. Still, she couldn't look away. She had to watch them holding each other in their arms, running after the other, playing. They were far away but from their actions she could tell they were young. They were playing games. No the usual games but love games. She liked to play those with Dean too. She was young, after all. Young and wild.

When she extinguished the cigarette, Dean came out on the balcony too but she still watched those two, now swimming in sea. She didn't need to look at Dean to feel the heat of his body.

"They didn't choose the best time for swimming," she said after the long, but not uncomfortable, silence.

"Why?" he asked tying his arms around her. She used her free hand to squeeze his firm muscular arm.

"Do you feel the unbearable heat?"

"Uh-huh," he mumbled.

"The rain, or thunder possibly, will arrive soon."

He looked up at the sky which was absolutely cloudy. The clouds were black. No stars could be seen and the moon was hidden too. "Don't you want to get inside then?

"No," she responded carelessly. All that time she didn't look at him not even once but she felt him near, she didn't need more. She was enjoying his presence and the moment as well.

He watched her for a while; she looked so peacefully and calmly. For a moment he thought she could be high but he didn't smell marijuana or any other drug. "Do you feel alright?" he asked while touching her forehead to find out if she was feverish.

She finally looked at him, smiling. "I'm fine," she told him. They she stroked his cheek and kissed him. The kiss was as peaceful as her. "I'm happy."

He smiled at her too. "Shouldn't we...," he started. He wanted to ask her whether they shouldn't go to bed as they needed to wake up early but she wouldn't let him.

"I don't care what we should do," she opposed. She pressed her finger against his lips to prevent him from talking. "This is our last night. I don't want to worry about tomorrow. Let's not do what we should but let's do what we want to do."

"And what is it that you want to do?" he asked her.

"I want to stay here and wait for the storm."

He lied down on the divan sofa which was alongside the big window, on the right side of the glass sliding door. Then he stretched out his hand towards her. She didn't pay much attention to him, so he called her by her name. Then she turned around, stepped forward, took his hand and let him guide her.

She was lying on top of him, in his arms. He held her tightly; their heads were next to each other, touching. Like that, they were waiting for the change of weather. They didn't care that above them was only sky which was about to pour water on their bodies. They didn't care about annoying insects flying around them. They didn't care about warmth that was burning their skin.

They knew it would all end soon. The first drops came few minutes later. Dean reached for the red blanket lying nearby and threw it over Zoey.

"And here it comes," Zoey pronounced as the storm began.


	4. Autumn

**IV. AUTUMN**

She put her phone down on the table but wouldn't stop hypnotising it. She wasn't waiting for any call. She knew he had no reason to call her. And she wasn't interested in anybody else calling, either. The reason why she had this little fight in her mind was herself. To call, or not to call, was the question that interested her.

She placed her left leg on the floor again and put the right one over it. Then she took a deep breath, she looked at the clock on the wall, the short hand was pointing between seven and eight while the long one was pointing exactly at six. Her head was filled with guilt that wasn't even reasonable. She wouldn't make a mistake calling him, would she? But she would make a mistake not to call him for sure. Or... maybe she was wrong. The condition has changed, after all.

She finally picked up the phone and dialled his number. She already knew it by heart. This surely wasn't the first time. When you call somebody that often, you simply learn the number, not matter if you try or not. She waited to hear his voice but it kept ringing. For too long. He was probably busy at the time. Maybe he was at work. Should she leave him a message? No. What would she say... He'll find out she called anyway. He can call her back. If he doesn't, it's his decision. She did what she could.

But she was not satisfied. She stood up and moved to her laptop. She pressed the starting button and nervously waited for it to turn on. It took forever. As least it seemed so long to her. When she launched the browser and typed two words into search engine but something stopped her from finishing it. She wanted to find out more about him, his actual location but she simply couldn't. She convinced herself it wasn't the right thing to do. But that wasn't enough; she needed to make herself think she didn't really want it.

All her trying failed. She typed in his name and other words of which she thought that could help her find him. But as soon as the results appeared, she closed the laptop and looked away at the same time. To make sure she wouldn't open it again, she forced herself to go away from her desk.

She moved to the window and opened it to get some fresh air and regenerate her brain which let her do the stupid thing of calling him. She breathed heavily. She knew her actions were desperate and totally unnecessary. She was happy. Why to spoil it with keeping the promise? Was it even a promise? Maybe just a rule. Unwritten rule, a habit.

For a moment she hesitated and looked at her laptop. She thought about opening it and checking the results. Or, she could just switch the search to pictures. There was no doubt that one quick glance would destroy her self control. It was so hard to resist. Only few months passed since their last meeting but it seemed so long ago. She couldn't remember what he looked like. She knew him very well but the details were blurred. What are his soft lips like? What about his sharp beard? And the manly jaw? The eyes striking hers?

She better headed to bed to forget about him again. It was okay when she was away but now that she came closer, she was only a short distance away from him, it was incomparably hard. And there was this promise...

Suddenly the phone started ringing. She wouldn't take her time, immediately she picked it up not thinking about was she would say.

"Dean," she called urgently.

"Zoey," he said happily.

As soon as she heard his voice, she felt relieved. She forgot about the consequences. As always, future was far away. Being with him, or even talking to him, always made her forgot about everything, it made her live in presence only. She felt happy. She felt safe.

"Is something wrong?" he worried as she sounded upset.

"No," she responded. "Everything's fine. Actually," she remembered the reason why she called him in first place, "I'm in Boston. But... this time, I don't think I can see you." She swallowed down. It was so difficult to say it.

"So something _is _wrong, after all," he guessed.

"No! Everything's perfect," she assured him.

"Then why cannot you come?"

"It's not that I couldn't come... Dean, I have a boyfriend. I cannot sleep with you."

"Oh," he exclaimed. "I understand."

For a moment none of them said anything but they knew the other one didn't hang up. She was thinking whether she made a mistake calling him. She couldn't see him anyway, why did she call? Now it seemed so stupid. And what should she say? That she was sorry? It was not something to be sorry about. She found a man she wanted to be with, it wasn't her fault or her mistake. They both knew that could happen, fortunately for them, it hasn't happened before. Unfortunately for them, it hasn't happened before so they didn't know how to deal with this kind of situation. It was new. Well, not for him. He was in this situation before but didn't care about being honest or faithful. But she wasn't like him. She really liked that guy and wanted to be with him, she wouldn't let Dean destroy her happiness or confuse her. She knew what she wanted.

But she wanted to be loyal to Dean too. She said she would call anytime she came to America. She was there now. She called him. She knew she did everything right although it felt so wrong. She couldn't do more. It was up to him to decide. Decide? There was nothing to decide, really. She didn't need his blessing, she just wanted to hear him say that he was happy she called him and joke it off with a sentence like _see you soon in my bed_.

But he didn't. He kept quiet.

"Dean?" she called his name. "Are you still there?" she asked although she knew he was. She just tried to get him to talk.

"Yes," he responded. His voice was silent, weak and hurt. He sounded confused as well.

"I shouldn't have called," she said the usual cliché.

"No!" he shouted. "I'm glad you did," he said exactly what she wanted to hear. She smiled. "I believe that guy won't make you happy and you'll feel the need to see me soon," he tried to joke but it didn't work out exactly as he planned. "Or," he continued. "Why don't you come anyway?"

"What?" she couldn't believe her ears. She had no idea what was his intention. "I will not cheat on him!" She was annoyed at him because he thought she would.

"That's not what I mean," he explained. "Zoey, I'm in New York. I have this important match in two days and..." he stopped talking.

"And?" she hurried him.

"I haven't won in months. If I don't win this match, I'm dead."

"No, you're not."

"Maybe not but I'm fired for sure."

"Dean, it's going to be alright. They cannot fire you," she tried to convince him but the truth was she didn't know much about these wrestling contracts. "And you're going to win."

"I doubt that. I'm not strong enough." He really sounded desperately but imagining him she really didn't know how he couldn't he strong enough. She had never been with anyone more muscular.

"Can I do something for you?" she asked. "Except for sleeping with you," she felt she needed to add.

"Could you be there?" he asked.

"I've already told you I don't care about wrestling anymore. Maybe it's because I care enough about you that I don't want to see you get hurt, I don't know. But if you really want to see me..."

"I do," he interrupted her.

"I'll come to New York."

When he saw her standing in front of him, the only thing he wanted to do was to kiss her. But he knew he couldn't. She was with some other guy now and he didn't want her to think he didn't approve of her relationship. But he couldn't just stand there, either.

He smiled, leaned forward and wanted to give her a little kiss on her cheeks but she stepped backwards.

"I'm not going to rape you," he assured her. She smiled blushing. That red colour in her cheeks only added to her beauty. Although she didn't come here to seduce him, she put on her red lipstick which he really liked. It matched perfectly with her dark brown hair and even darker eyes which were still looking at him. He had to smile. But there was something hidden in it. He went back to checking her up. He didn't care about her earrings or any other accessories. He didn't even care about what she was wearing. Everything covering her shining body was meaningless in his eyes.

Only few months passed since their almost perfect week in Florida but he felt she had changed so much. In reality, she looked almost the same, but there was something different. That look in her eyes. That attitude. He missed her so much. He needed her to be next to him. This time she couldn't. He didn't know anything about her thoughts or her intentions. Did she really come only to cheer him up or was there more? There was so much hidden away from him. Her mind was even further away than herself. She was right in front of him but he knew if he stretched his arm, he wouldn't feel her, she would move away. Not her body, herself. It was like looking at a picture in a gallery. The picture was behind the glass and there even was some tape to prevent him from going too close. To prevent him from destroying it.

"I'm not afraid of you," she told him. It seemed like forever that he was thinking about her. Could it be only few seconds?

She was worried about something else. She looked at his waist, then she looked back into his eyes. "What happened to you?" she wanted to know.

Then he realised there was a band tied around his waist.

"Are you hurt?" she asked.

"It's nothing," he didn't want to explain what happened to him. He totally forgot he was checking his injury right before she knocked on the door. He found a T-shirt on the chair and put it on.

She knew him well enough not to ask him about something when he didn't want to talk about it. She was worried but there was nothing she could do. She really wanted to ask him if he planned to fight injured but she better bit her tongue.

"So tell me about him. What is he like?" he asked while pouring a drink for both of them.

"I didn't come here to talk about him. You don't want to talk about your injury; I don't want to talk about my boyfriend. That's how it is; none of us can do anything about it."

She was right but there was something different in the way she spoke. She treated him like a stranger. He knew he had to do something about it. He needed to bring her back. The real her.

"Let's forget about everything for a second," he said. "Sit down, please." He showed her a place to sit and she listened. "You may say you're not afraid but I see you are. I want you to know I won't take an advantage of you."

"I know that, Dean."

"Then? Are you worried that you could succumb?"

She did not answer. She wasn't sure whether to tell the truth or lie. She considered neither of decisions to be right.

"I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable and still, I feel I do," he continued. "If that makes you feel better, I won't touch you, I won't look at you the way I usually do. I just want you to be here with me, to be my friend who knows me the way nobody else does."

She smiled hearing the indirect compliment. "I thought you wanted me to be a fan of yours."

"No. I want you to be... somebody who wouldn't judge me."

"You know I have never judged you. I don't care about the person you are in the ring, or surrounded by your family, your friends."

"Zoey," he called her to get her attention as she was talking to him but she kept staring out the window.

"Yes?" she looked at him again.

"I need you to help me," he admitted.

She was looking at his devastated face. It wasn't hurt, at least not on the surface. There was something inside. It wasn't only her that was different. He was different too. This time she didn't see a hunter in front of her, she saw a victim. But she didn't know who caused all that pain that was hidden in his eyes.

She wanted to give him a hand but she thought about what she has left behind. There was somebody waiting for her at home, she couldn't let this person destroy her personal life. Her real life, not the one she was pretending to have while she was with Dean.

He seemed so sad, so miserable. In a second, she forgot about everything she has promised to herself and not making any decisions, she spontaneously erased the distance between her and Dean and touched his hands lying on the table next to the glasses filled with alcohol. Then she looked him in the eyes trying to find the connection between them and gave him the strength he seemed to be missing.

"What's going on?" she asked emphatically still holding his cold hands.

"I know you don't want to hear about real Dean Ambrose."

"You mean the heel character you have to play?" she asked.

"When I told you about my failed matches..."

She listened carefully as she couldn't predict what he would say.

"I lied," he finished the sentence.

"Why?" she wanted to know.

"So you would come," he explained. "A long time ago you told me that people lie only to those they care about. I care about you. And I needed you to be here. Therefore I had to lie, otherwise, if you knew the truth, you would hang up."

"I don't think so," she tried to prove him wrong.

"You say you don't judge me but I know there are limits. There always are."

She didn't know what to think about it. She really was confused. Did he do something bad? Did it have something to do with her? She tried to look for the truth in his eyes but it was impossible.

"Will you finally tell me what happened?" She started to worry. "Is it about your injury?" she guessed.

"Somehow, yes," he admitted. "Look, Zoey, the truth is, I..." he wanted to explain his actions to her but she wouldn't let him.

"I don't care. I don't want to know. That life of yours," she pointed at the injury, "wrestling," she specified to make sure he understood, "is something I don't want to be a part of."

He didn't know whether it is good or bad. He tried to read in her eyes but she was tough, emotionless but on the other hand, he could see that she didn't want to be cruel to him. She just wanted to make it easier for both of them.

She smiled at him. "I'm not a moralist," she added, "I just want to be a friend of yours. I came here because I felt you needed me. And somehow..." she broke off.

"And somehow," he repeated looking at her, giving her courage to say what she meant to say.

"I needed you, too."

Hearing that he wanted to pull her close to him but soon enough he realised it wasn't possible. If he did it, and he really wanted to, she would leave immediately.

"Maybe this time it could be different."

"What do you mean?" she wondered.

"Remember that time when you said we were lovers with benefits."

She laughed. "I said lovers with friendship," she corrected him.

"Anyhow, now it's ideal time for being just friends."

She thought about it but she had to admit that he was right. There were things they could talk about to relieve themselves.

"So why don't you just relax and tell me what bothers you?" he offered.

She wanted to tell him about her troubles but suddenly she realised it wasn't possible. "I can't," she proclaimed. Before coming here, there was no problem to talk about. When she entered the room, the problem arose. And now it's growing bigger and bigger.

"Should I start?" he asked when she kept quiet for a while.

Without answering him, she stood up and looked around for the doorway to get out. Unfortunately for her, his reflexes, which got unbelievable fast with wrestling, caught her action and prevented her from leaving. Suddenly, his hand was holding her arm, his eyes trying to catch her eyesight.

"What's the matter?" he asked while standing up.

When she realised it wasn't possible to ignore him and get away, she sighed and turned to face him. "You are," she admitted. "After all these years, I cannot just stand in front of you not imagining things I shouldn't imagine. I thought it would be easy but it's really not. You have no idea what's going on on my mind, Dean," she said.

"Really?" he asked the rhetorical question. "You little liar," he accused her, "you say you are not a moralist but as soon as it is about you, you become one. You didn't mind being the one I cheated with but now that you are in a relationship you don't even want to touch me. And still, you do. And you know that I want it, too. So why don't you just give up?"

"Where would that get me?" she asked him. "This thing we have, it's not going to last forever. You know that very well. I cannot just hang on, not thinking about future. Okay, maybe I can when I'm with you. But then I come back home and I become a rationalist, and a moralist, as you say. I am getting older, I'm not a student who wanted to enjoy every second of life anymore. When I find a man, I don't want to bang him and leave the other day. I want to have a meaningful relationship which could lead somewhere. And now, I'm standing at the intersection, not knowing which way to go. Should I take the road which would get me, eventually, a happy life or should I take the one-way road?"

Dean knew very well what she was talking about but he didn't want to stop what they were having. Maybe it was meaningless but it was pleasuring them both. And maybe he should let her go but he couldn't. Was it selfish? Probably. Stupid? For sure. But he couldn't do anything. Only fight. Fortunately, it was something he was good at.

He looked at her and smiled confidently. "Let me show you that I can be a nice guy, too. And this time, my profession won't be a disadvantage."

She was looking back at him, confused, not knowing what was going on on his mind.

"You like wrestling, right?" he asked her.

"Well, I used to... I'm not into it a lot now."

"Okay, let me ask it differently." He thought for a while. "If you got a ticket to some pay-per-view, would you refuse it?"

"I guess not," she responded. "But you're not going to give me one, are you?" she asked suspiciously.

"No. I mean that's not where I'm going to with this but say a word and I can get you anywhere," he assured her what made her cherish slightly.

"You think I would travel to USA just to see some _stupid_," she emphasized playfully, "wrestling show?"

"You travel to USA just to see some _stupid_ wrestler, so why not?" He looked straight into her eyes what made her turn away. "Anyway," he continued, "what I originally wanted to say was... Would you mind watching some wrestling with me, as a friend, of course," he added, "and tell me what you think about my wrestling?"

"That sounds good," she admitted.

She really missed watching an action of that kind. And now, for the first time ever, she would watch it with a professional. And what's more, she could tell him her opinion, not caring about the outcome.

They sat down on the bed and Dean turned on TV. It didn't take a lot, soon they were watching Dean in action and in that moment, she realised how much she missed it. After a while, she started to fully concentrate on the match and totally forgot that he was next to her, looking at her enthusiastic face expression.

He knew very well why he did this. He didn't want to see the match again, all he wanted was her to be next to him, smiling, being happy, being with him.

Suddenly she realised the truth. There was only one person, not two as she believed. There was not the wrestler and then Dean she hangs out with. They were the same person and that person was WWE superstar Dean Ambrose. And he was right beside her trying to convince her he was not the bad person as portrayed on TV.

She saw him looking at her and she smiled. "Can you teach me some of it?" she asked.

Hearing that, he burst out laughing. "No," he said still laughing. "Have you never listened to wrestlers saying _Be smart, be safe, don't try this_?"

"But come on, you say that for children, don't you?"

"Well, adults are usually more aware of danger."

"But..." she beseeched like a little girl.

"Okay, I can show you some less dangerous moves."

"Great!" she shouted.

He rewound the match to see the move he wanted to perform so she could see it. Then he told her what to do and she listened to him. He had no intention in hurting her so he needed to be extremely careful. She told him she wouldn't mind if it hurt a little bit but he would suffer if he did something bad to her.

When he was done showing, he told her to try to do the same thing to him. She was doing really well for somebody who has never done anything like that before but being that close to her, it was hard for him to resist her. Watching her, he was unhappy with not being able to touch her the way he wanted to. This physical contact caused by _wrestling_ was something he could not handle. So as soon as it over but before she could move away from him, their lips touched.

Realising what he was doing, he stopped immediately.

"I'm sorry," he told her.

She was speechless. He just sat there on his bed looking down. He had no idea what she was thinking about. Did she hate him? Or did she like it? Why didn't she say anything?

"You know what?" he said confidently. "I'm _not_ sorry." He approached her and kissed her again. This time she was the one to stop it.

"I can't do that," she said with her British accent. "I'm in a relationship and I'm not the kind of girl who cheats on her boyfriend."

"I know. I just don't want to give up on you. I want to kiss you and hold you in my arms. I want you so bad," he admitted.

Finally she looked him in the eyes and said, "I want you too."

He took it as a signal that she allowed him to kiss her but she put her hand on her mouth shutting down the entrance for him.

For a second he considered taking her by force but he refused it immediately. "What can I do…" he wanted to ask something but she put her finger on his lips.

"I need to do something first," she announced him. Then she stepped back and reached for her bag to get her phone.

He was waiting for what was going to happen. He knew that she was calling somebody but that was all.

"Ciao, Andrea," he heard her saying but it was the only thing he understood. The whole conversation was happening in Italian and he didn't speak that language. Therefore, he had no idea who she was talking to or what she was talking about.

He was thinking whether she was Italian as he had no idea where she was from. Actually, he didn't know almost anything about her. Her name, her age... These things were being kept away from him.

When she put down the phone, she wasted no time. She figuratively jumped on him, tied her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. It was too fast for him. He still didn't know what just happened. He had to pull her away for a second.

"What was that?" he asked referring to the dialogue she had with somebody.

"I broke up with my boyfriend," she cleared things up for him.

"Just like that?" He was confused. It was seemed to easy for him. He told her he wanted her and evidently she wanted him too. So she picked up her phone and called her boyfriend to end it between them and now there was nothing standing in the way between Dean and her. "What did you tell him?" he wanted to know.

"The truth. That I was going to cheat on him."

The following morning, there was no pity in what had happened. There was deep understanding and happiness. Happiness which could last only for one more day.

"I'm leaving tomorrow. So, if you want, I can come again tonight," she said to him.

"Actually, in two days we're going to Europe to our WWE Europe tour. Don't you want to come with me?" he offered her hoping she would agree.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she turned him down immediately. "Let's not mix our personal and professional lives up, okay? Anyway, it would make people curious about our _relationship_," she added. "That reminds me," she wouldn't let him say anything, "did you tell any interviewer about Zoey Ambrose?" she asked him with unhidden interest.

"No, not yet," he responded politely. "Actually, Zoey," he looked at her, "I would like..." he stopped because he couldn't find the right words. "I would like to introduce you as," he was saying really slowly.

"As who?" she encouraged him.

Fortunately for him, their dialogue was interrupted by knocking on the door.

"I'll be right there," he shouted so the person behind the door would hear him. Then both of them put on some clothes, Zoey collected her stuff and Dean went on to open the door.

Unlike him, Zoey was surprised to see his teammate, or more like shieldmate, Seth Rollins. He couldn't not notice her and also the unmade bed behind her.

"I'm sorry, Dean, I didn't know you had some chick here." The way he said it made her feel uninvited. Unwanted. "Anyway, I came here to discuss something with you but it is _private_," he emphasized.

"I get it," she said. "I'm out of here."

"You don't have to," Dean tried to stop her.

"It's okay."

"Fine but come tonight, please," he told her.

She smiled at him and knowing that Seth was watching, she gave Dean a long kiss. "Sure," she whispered into his ear and then she was gone.

When she left, Dean turned to Seth unhappy with his behaviour. "What was that?" he asked him angrily.

"I feel that I should ask that question. What the hell was that? A bimbo before the match? Are you going out of your mind? And you asked her to come again later?" Seth sounded pretty angry too.

"She's not a bimbo! Or _some_ chick!"

"Wait," Seth calmed down immediately, "is she your... girlfriend?"

"No," Dean responded. "She's not that either."

"Then why was she here? And don't tell me you didn't sleep with her."

"I'm not saying anything. And if I remember it well, you were the one who came here because you had something on your mind," he reminded him.

"Yeah... that can wait. Tell me about her," he insisted.

Dean looked at him both surprised and confused like it was usual for him to talk about girls. And also, Seth didn't use to spy on his personal life. The truth was he just wasn't interested in kind of girls that used to hang around Dean. There was no girlfriend or a nice girl which would make Seth curious. But the one that just left seemed to be different.

Dean didn't want to talk about her but at the same time he really did. There was nobody who would know about her and it would feel good to be able to reveal their secret to somebody.

"Okay. Sit down. This can take a while."

"So she's not a one night stand?" Seth asked hopefully.

"It has lasted for a couple of years," he admitted.

"No...," he couldn't believe it. "You hang out with this girl for that long and nobody has noticed anything?"

"It's not really that unbelievable since we are together only for few days a year."

Seth was confused. "Now explain me that," he demanded.

"You may not have noticed that but she's not from the USA. She's European."

"European? Come on. Why don't you tell the name of the country she's from? I'm sure I know where it is," he joked.

"It's not that I would think that your geography skills are poor, I just don't know where exactly she is from."

"Oh. Okay. So tell me what you do know."

Dean shamefully looked away. "There's not much of factual information I could give you. I just know she is beautiful, gentle, clever, oh, she's got a PhD, and... she's younger than me."

"What about her name?"

"I don't know her real name. But I call her Zoey."

"And she lets you," Seth said sarcastically.

"Neither she calls me Jonathan."

"Don't get me wrong, Jon, but where do you think your _relationship_ with her is going? Because I don't see any point in fooling around with your fan and still sleeping with other girls."

"Stop right there," Dean interrupted him. "You cannot be more wrong. We're not _fooling around_, she's not some fan of mine who would sleep with me only because I'm famous and..." he stopped for a while. "I don't bang other girls."

"You're kidding me, right?" Seth couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't even imagine Jon, or Dean, without his skulduggeries. When he realised Jon wasn't lying, at least he didn't seem to be, he needed to know, "Since when?"

"Since I've realised that I'm in love with her."

Seth couldn't remember any time that he heard Dean saying he was in love. And although he was happy for him, he had to ruin it for him.

"You are in love with a girl you don't know anything about and moreover, you see her only few days a year. I'm sorry but that cannot work."

"I know that. That's why I want to move on."

"Which way?" he asked concerned.

"Forward," Dean responded, denying the idea of ending things up between them. "I want to ask her to be my girlfriend."

"And you think you could handle a long-distance relationship?" Seth asked what made Dean a little angry since he didn't finish talking.

"No, and if you let me finish, you would hear that I want to ask her to move in with me, too."

When it was time for Seth to say something, he stayed quiet. He was really concerned. Glad but worried. He knew it wouldn't be that simple. He was in a relationship himself and he knew how hard it was to be a wrestler and have a personal life, a girlfriend who's not from business. It was unbelievably hard to explain sometimes why he couldn't come home, be with her, there were no holidays for him because he needed to travel. The only thing that usually helped was family and friends.

But Zoey wouldn't have them around. Seth was sure Dean didn't realise what it would mean for her to move to another continent. She would give up her family and friends, just to be with somebody who wouldn't even be home with her.

Although Seth knew the truth, he didn't have the heart to tell Dean. All he heard from him sounded like it wasn't even Dean, he was a better person. And what would happen if all that newfound goodness would be destroyed by one _no_ from person he cared about the most. Seth couldn't prepare him for that. For a refusal.

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" Seth asked after a while.

"Of course. I've never been so sure." But Dean wavered. "Do _you_ have any doubts?"

"To be honest, I'm a little worried that you could get hurt."

"Come on, Colby," he sounded like the old Dean again. "Get hurt?" he asked sarcastically. "The only way I can get hurt is physically, in the ring. And you know very well that I don't care about any pain."

"Okay," Seth sighed. He knew that Dean wouldn't listen to any advice he would give him. It was better to just let it go and hope that everything would be alright. Or, not to care at all. "Just be careful," he felt he needed to tell him.

Dean looked at him hatefully, making him know he didn't want to hear any warnings from his teammate. "I shouldn't have said anything," he uttered.

"Fine, I'm leaving," Seth assured him. But before he did leave, he told Dean what he really thought about Dean's so-called plan. "You don't know anything about her! And you want her to move in with you? That's crazy!" he shouted.

"Get out!" Dean yelled.

Seth didn't take much time and disappeared. He felt a little bad about what he told Dean. He wanted him to be happy and he liked the person that he has become. There was nobody who would want him more to stop sleeping around and find one permanent girlfriend who would he eventually marry, but Seth simply didn't believe it would work out for Dean this way. There was a chance, of course. Unfortunately, that chance was pretty small.

Soon after Dean slammed the door and went to the bathroom to shave off his facial hair, there was another knock on the door.

When he opened them, he saw Seth again.

"Uh, Joe and I are going to be in the gym in half an hour. Will you join us so that we can prepare for the show?" Seth asked embarrassedly the question he had on his mind when Dean opened the door for the first time. Then he saw that girl and he totally forgot about it.

"Sure," Dean acted casually. He was able to divide his career and his personal life. "I'll be there," he assured Seth.

"Okay," Seth said with mixed feelings. For the rest of the day, he chose not to worry about the dialogue he had before with Dean. And Dean chose to shut down his feelings as he's always done.

Until he saw her again. Then he became confused not knowing what to do, what to say. Everything Seth said earlier suddenly started to make sense. He doubted his plan. Maybe it was a mistake. This weird relationship that they were having felt good, even right. Why to change it? Why to risk it by moving to the next step?

"Are you alright?" Zoey asked him when she noticed he was not focused on the dinner. "Don't you like the food?"

"It's okay," he responded trying to smile. It didn't work out as he wanted to. He had to think about everything Seth said. He could not enjoy the rare moment spent with her.

"What's wrong?" she was concerned.

"Nothing," he answered simply. "Would you mind if we just left?"

Zoey knew something _was_ wrong but she didn't want to ask about anything. He knew that in times like this it was best to keep quiet and agree.

"If you want, we can go."

They left the food there, Dean paid for the dinner and they headed to the Dean's hotel. They chose to walk so it took them a while. Dean thought it would be fine to just be next to her but although physically they were close, mentally his mind was hundreds of miles away. He knew he should talk to her but maybe for the first time he couldn't find the right words. He felt like his mind was hidden behind a thick wall and couldn't break through to express itself.

Maybe he shouldn't say anything. There was a pretty big chance his question would end up in failure. No moving in could be the right choice. Maybe he should just keep the things the same way as they were.

"Carrie?" somebody called upon their shoulders.

Zoey suddenly stopped. Then she turned around.

"Carrie Hasek?" a man in dark suit asked. He was evidently young although his haircut made him look older.

Zoey kept quiet, unlike the man. "I cannot believe I meet you here in New York. I'm Shawn," he introduced himself and shook Zoey's hand. "I'm a big fan of your work," he continued. "You are a true artist and what you make are simply masterpieces."

"Excuse me," Zoey interrupted him. "I'm kind of busy now."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realise you were here with your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend," she corrected him.

"In that case, could I invite you somewhere for a drink sometime?" He started to flirt with her what made Dean uncomfortable even though he was standing away.

"I don't think so," Zoey responded.

"Could I at least get your autograph?" he insisted.

"I'm not a celebrity. You must have confused me with somebody. Now excuse me, please, I have to go," she ended their short conversation.

Zoey continued walking through the park, alongside Dean, and that guy kept standing there for another while unaware of what just happened. He was probably as confused as Dean himself.

For the rest of the walk Dean didn't ask anything but he was curious and during the conversation, he was pretty jealous, too. Who was that guy? And who is Zoey, he kept asking himself. Now his head was filled up realization of what she said. That he was not her boyfriend. He was nothing. Something like a summer love. You just know that it will end between you two one day. And that was not what he wanted.

As soon as day arrived to the hotel he started posing questions.

"Is your real name Carrie?" he asked but she didn't answer.

"What kind of artist are you?" was another question.

"Who was that guy? Do you know him?"

Zoey ignored every single question he asked her. Instead, she walked around the room picking up her stuff.

"Now that I know your name why don't you tell me the whole truth?"

"The truth?" she finally started talking to him. "Why are you treating me like a liar?" she asked him.

He didn't answer. First he needed to find the answer. Because the truth was she has never told that she would reveal her secrets to him. She has never promised him anything.

"I'm not. I just want to know everything about you."

"Why?" she was upset.

"Because I care. I care about you and I don't want you to keep secrets from me. I want you to feel free to share anything and everything."

"And I want you to know that I'm not hiding anything important about myself. Just things you don't need to know," she said.

"You think that I don't need to know your name, the country you live in or you age? Hell, I don't even know when your birthday is," he tried to show his point.

"So?"

"I cannot wish you happy birthday, give you a present..."

"I don't want any present," she interrupted him. "I don't want anything from you," she said and then headed to the door with her bag.

He read her actions and stopped her. Then he looked her in the eyes, took her bag and tossed it on the floor.

"I'm sorry," he apologised. Then he kissed her on her forehead, then on her cheeks and finally on the tip of her nose. "I didn't want to upset you. Please, stay."

She looked at him painfully and tried to smile.

"It's fucked up," she told him while looking down at the floor. "I guess we just hit our expiration date."

What she said made him furious. He didn't want her to leave. He would do anything to make her stay.

"No. That was just a simple argument. An exchange of opinions," he explained to her. "We just hit the point where we need to change what we have. Because..." he said honestly, "our relationship is not without feelings anymore."

She looked at him confusedly but didn't ask what he meant by that. But she gave him a chance to make her stay. She moved away from the doorway and got back into the room. She sat down on the bed and waited for him to join her.

When he sat down next to her, he put her hands into his own ones and held them tightly.

"Carrie," he used her real name this time.

Hearing that name she trembled and the level of anger was rising.

"Don't call me that," she shouted.

"Sorry," he apologized and corrected himself, "Zoey, before we got into this stupid argument, I wanted to ask you something."

"Don't," she stopped him what made him just look at her without understanding. "Not now," she added.

"But why?" he wanted to know but she didn't give him any explanation.

"I should go," she said picking up her bag and trying to leave once again.

"Did you listen to me before? I don't want you to leave. There's no reason for you to leave."

"I'm leaving tomorrow anyway. Therefore I can spend this night somewhere else."

"But why would you?"

Dean realised this conversation was getting them nowhere once again. He knew he needed to say or do something that would make her stay. Also, he had to put her into her normal mood. This way, not only that she didn't want to stay, not even Dean himself would be pleased with her presence.

"Okay," he continued. "Let's forget about everything that happened earlier, shall we?" He couldn't understand how him learning her real name from some stranger could change her behaviour so much.

"Fine," she responded finally. She seemed to be calmed down but Dean couldn't take it for granted. "I'm sorry," she apologised with evident effort. "But maybe I should go after all."

"Please, don't," he tried to be as gentle as possible.

Seeing him trying so hard to make her stay, she couldn't leave him there alone. Although she didn't feel comfortable being there with her thinking about him calling her Carrie, she had to suppress her emotions and do her best not to let anything show. It seemed so difficult but she knew she was able to do it. All it took was a little (or a lot of) effort.

"I'll stay... but don't expect me to act as nothing has happened."

He wanted to say that nothing has happened indeed but he knew it would just make her lose her self-control. He himself was a little angry at her for acting weird and being overly sensitive but he realised that maybe there were still some things hidden away from him so there was a chance her behaviour was just a reflexion of something unknown.

He was happy she stayed but he didn't know what to say to her or what to do. He didn't want just to go to bed but what was the other possibility? She certainly wasn't in mood for any activity including both of them.

And what about his question? He couldn't just ask. Maybe tomorrow. Or, after what has happened, he shouldn't do it at all. Did he really want to be with somebody who freaks out without any reason? There certainly was a side of her he didn't know. It seemed like Seth was right and they didn't know each other well enough to be prepared to live together. But maybe these little things were all stupid and of no great importance. He had feelings for her. Even more. And still, he wanted to be with her as often as possible.

In the morning, everything that happened the previous night seemed so unreal. She became the person he loved. She was even smiling and willing to kiss him. She seemed so happy. He hoped it was because of his presence.

In that moment he wanted so much to tell her he loved her. And for a second, he considered he would really do it. But being close to her makes him think more. She was really clever and wise and he knew that she wouldn't say the first thing that was on her mind. She would think about the consequences it could have. And so did he. And as the result, he didn't say anything.

"Now I should really go," she told him kindly when he wouldn't let her go and hold her as tightly as if she belonged to him.

"Stay, please."

"I'd love to but I don't want to miss the flight."

"Please," he repeated.

"Okay. Five more minutes."

"That's not enough," he protested.

"I cannot stay any longer."

"Stay," he said a little more seriously.

"Seven minutes," she offered him.

"No," he refused. "Longer."

"How long?" she asked when she realised there was no possibility of achieving a compromise.

"Forever."

"What?" she laughed.

"I'm serious." He knew this was the only chance that he had to tell her. "I want you to stay here forever."

"In this room?" she asked as if she didn't know what his intention was.

"No. Here in the United States. With me."

"What do you mean?" she couldn't believe her ears.

"Yesterday you asked if I have told the public who you were. I said I didn't. Do you remember?"

"Yes," she responded.

"Well, the truth is... I was thinking that I would introduce you as my girlfriend. In case, you want to be one."

He was waiting for her to tell him what she thought about it but she was speechless so he continued. "I'd like you to move in with me. I know that since I'm professional wrestler I travel a lot but it doesn't have to be a big issue. You can come sometimes with me and I'd spend all my free time with you... So what do you say?"

"Are you sure that's what you want?" she asked what surprised him because he didn't expect this kind of question.

"Of course I am."

Without response she stood up but Dean managed to catch her arm not allowing her to walk out on him.

She looked at him painfully and said, "I cannot do that."

"Of course you can," he tried to persuade her.

"But Dean, I don't want to."


	5. Winter (2)

**V. WINTER**

It took him another year but he finally made it. With his wrestling career and his wrestling lifestyle he didn't have much time for his personal life. If there was any to speak about. Since she left he focused on his career but after some time he realised he couldn't just leave it like that. Unspoken. There was so much to say. He needed to hear an explanation. According to him, it was never too late. That day, which now seemed so long away, she didn't say a lot. No. That was it. She could have said why. What was wrong. And that was what he wanted to hear from her. Why did she just turn him down.

Since she wouldn't return his calls nor respond to his messages, he was forced to do some research. He did everything what it took to learn the things she didn't want to tell him. After a couple of months spent on the internet, with a little help from that stranger who uncovered her real name, he knew her address. He needed to use a lot of free time to get it. But it was no longer a secret for him that Carrie Hanusek lived in Milan in Italy. She was a fashion designer what explained the conversation she had with the park stranger. She was getting famous but unfortunately, although her career life was well known, it was impossible to find some information about her personal life.

The fact he was a celebrity himself wasn't helpful, either. It was as difficult for him to find out something about her as if he was a regular human being. Even worse was that since he travelled a lot because of his job, he didn't have time to contact her. Not by phone, that failed earlier. He intended to go to Italy and meet her personally. And the soonest that it was possible was in winter, a year from the time he saw her for the last time.

So now he was standing in front of her door about to ring the bell. He had a lot of time to think about what to say but he decided not to. He believed it was better to see what would happen. Maybe the reaction in her face will help him define what to do. The only thing he knew that would be stupid was to show his anger. Of course, he was angry with her but now he was here to change it.

While he was deciding if it was the right time to confront her, the door opened itself. And there she was. Beautiful as usual, smiling at him, looking hot. She looked a little different, though. Maybe it was because this time he saw her in her natural habitat. He had a chance to see real her.

And the time for thinking what would be his next step was up. So without thinking, he simply kissed her. And only then he noticed the difference.

"Mi scusi," she said pulling him away. "Chi è Lei?"

"I'm sorry. Can you say it in English?" he asked.

"I asked you who you are," she translated it for him.

"I'm Jon, I mean Dean. Come on, Zoey, don't act like you don't remember me."

"My name's not Zoey."

"I know. You are Carrie."

"Right. But still, I don't know you," she opposed.

"So you've never heard of Dean Ambrose, hmm?"

"No, I haven't," she responded politely. "And anyway, why did you kiss me?"

Dean became confused. He thought about different scenarios before he came here but in none she didn't know who he was.

"I don't understand," he said. "Do you act like you don't know me or you really don't know who I am?" he asked.

"I don't know what's going on here. Leave me alone, don't follow me, please," she told him hen she realised he was probably a stalker so wanted to get away as fast as possible but he wouldn't let her.

"Okay. Look, Carrie, my name's Jonathan and, for as unbelievable as it sounds, I'm looking for a person who looks exactly like you. I thought her name was Carrie Hanusek but it seems like I was wrong. I'm sorry for disturbing you," he apologized to her.

"Oh," she exclaimed. "I think I understand," she smiled but then her smile disappeared.

"You do?"

"Yeah, I know who you're looking for," she explained.

"Really?" he couldn't believe his ears.

"Yes, and that can be pretty interesting. Do you want to go inside?" she offered him.

"Sure," he accepted her offer and she got so focused she didn't even care for where she was originally heading to.

"So," she started as she sat down on the sofa next to him. "What's your name again?"

"Jonathan Good."

"You're not Italian, right?" she wanted to learn as much about him as possible before telling him what he wanted to know.

"No. I'm American. I'm a professional wrestler under the stage name Dean Ambrose, that's why I introduced myself as Dean. Now can you tell me where the person I'm looking for is?"

"It depends. How do you know her?"

"She kind of... used to be... she used to be my... Well, we were lovers," he finally got through with the answer.

"Really?" she doubted. "You don't look like somebody she would be interested in," she was honest with him. Maybe too much. "Sorry," she apologized.

"Whatever, we weren't dating anyway," he said a little arrogantly. "Who is she? And what's her name?" he insisted on knowing.

"How come you used to sleep with her and you still don't know her name?"

"She didn't tell me. So?"

"Her name is Eliška Hanušeková and she's my twin sister."

"That doesn't sound Italian to me," he said while still in wonder of learning that he was speaking with her twin sister right now.

"Why would it? She's Czech and so am I. My full name is actually Karolína Hanušeková," she explained to him while putting two cups of coffee on the table.

"Well, I'm sorry for that kiss," he gently apologized to her.

"It happens to me more often than you'd think."

"Really?"

"No," her tone changed. "And I still regret I didn't slap you for that," she was angry at him.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were her," he tried to make an excuse for himself.

"So what?! She would slap you for sure. And if not, her fiancé would," she blurted out before she realised that he probably didn't know about her sister's up-coming wedding.

"What?!" he almost choked on the biscuit he was eating. "She's engaged?!"

"Yes, you didn't know that?" she felt embarrassed for letting out of her mouth something that her sister was probably hiding from him.

"Why?" he asked.

"Probably because she loves him," she said slowly for she didn't understand why he was asking such a stupid question.

"Right," he got a little angry for his own reasons that she didn't need to know. "Does she live here as well?"

"No. And I cannot tell you where she lives."

"You were about to tell me."

"But now I know what your intentions are and I'm not going to let you ruin her wedding."

"I wouldn't do that," he tried to convince her but unsuccessfully. "Look, Carrie," he said without looking at her, because she reminded him of Zoey too much. "I just need to talk to her. She ended things up between us without giving me any reason. She simply left."

"That doesn't surprise me. She always does that," Carried added quietly.

"Give me a clue, please. Anything. When is she getting married?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"Don't lie to me," he responded angrily.

Carrie stood up and told him, "I'm not lying. I don't even know who she is getting married to. Ellie and I don't talk to each other. Or, better said, she doesn't talk to me. I am not even invited to the wedding." Then she moved to the kettle and poured herself another cup of coffee. "From my point of you, she did the same thing to you as she did to me a couple of years ago. She cut us both off of her life."

Dean tried to hide a grin. Then he stood up and turned to Carrie, "I don't know about you but I don't give up that easily."

"Please, don't interfere with her life. She may not speak to me but she is still my sister and I care about her."

"Don't worry," Dean said to calm her down, "I care about her too."

"What a pity she doesn't care about us, right?" Carrie added what made Dean wonder.

"What happened between you two? She had to ditch you for some reason, so… what was it?" he insisted on knowing.

"That's none of your business," Carrie didn't feel like talking to him about it.

"I know," Dean told her calmly, "I just thought that maybe if, by any chance, I would succeed in contacting her, you would like to send a message."

"Tell her…" she started but then stopped because she didn't know what to say, she had to think about it first. "Tell her that I made a mistake and I regret it but I couldn't know what consequences it would have. It wasn't my fault and she should realise that," Carrie spoke remembering what happened back then and how it changed so many people's lives forever. She got a little emotional so she had to leave the room.

Meanwhile Dean was trying to understand her words. It was difficult to remember it as he had no idea what she was talking about, what happened between the two sisters. He decided to follow Carrie into the kitchen and make her face him.

"Come on. Why don't you just open up to me and tell me what happened? I'm just some stranger, I'm not going to judge you, as your sister certainly does," he added. "With my list of sins I'm the last person to judge."

"That's really nice of you but I don't need any kind of therapy. I went through that. If you want to know what I did why don't you ask my sister when you meet her?" she suggested to him.

"Did you sleep with her boyfriend?" he guessed although he later realised it was inappropriate.

Carrie turned to him, smiled a little bit and said, "I wish I did that. Look, what's your name again?" she asked because she wanted to address something to him but she couldn't remember the name.

"Jon," he reminded her.

"Yeah, look, Jon, it was nice meeting you but you should go now."

"Can't you just tell me how I could find her?" he tried to sound gentle.

"I've got no intention in you finding her, I'm sorry. I don't think it's a good idea. You will just waste a lot of time and money. And in the end, you'll get another no from her. Do you really think it's worth it?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered without hesitating.

Carrie just shook her head not understanding his faith in Ellie. Then she moved closer to the door and opened them for Jonathan. She said a simple goodbye and let him go without wishing him a good luck.

Not wasting any time, Dean did everything he could to contact her. But he failed. He started to realise that even in this totally technologized world it was possible for somebody to hide. He had no idea where she could be, even now when he knew her real name it meant nothing. He knew her sister as well, she didn't help him though. And now, that he knew it was impossible for him to get to her, there was only one thing left. He had to get her where he was. But how? The question puzzled him for some time but he finally realised what he could do that could actually work.

"We're expecting her arrival around 5 p.m. If you want, you can stay here or you can come later," they told him.

"I'll come later," Dean announced them. "Just make sure she won't go anywhere," he added.

Then he turned around and left. He was really glad he succeeded. Or, not yet, but he knew she would come and this time there was no escape for her.

What he did was simple. He remembered that she studied History, therefore she did a lot of research and she often worked with different universities. The only thing he had to do was to "hire" a university. He paid them to invite her over to work with them. So now she was on her way to the United States without knowing that it was him who organised it. It wasn't a problem for him to give away some money. It wouldn't ruin him. The university was just surprised because it had never happened before that somebody would want them to fake a meeting. Fortunately for him, they didn't have the need to know the reason why he was doing it; a simple cheque for a big sum of money was enough.

He was hoping that, maybe, she would give him a call, saying she was in New York and asking him if he wanted to meet up. Well, she didn't call. That unwritten rule, which was settled years ago, suddenly disappeared. And he really missed that. After all that time they spent together, when he finally developed feelings for her and wanted to move to the next step, she refused to continue in their little romance. Was it possible that she simply didn't care? Usually it was him who lost interest. This refusal hurt. Maybe it would be easier for him to move on if she gave him a reason…

And what hurt him even more, was that a year later, she was engaged to get married. Maybe she was already married. Maybe everything was already lost. But who would even care? He put a lot of effort into contacting her and when he finally succeeded he wasn't going to give up. That wasn't his style. If he gave up every time something went wrong, he wouldn't get where he was right now.

So as soon as he got a call from the university, he headed there, ready to see her after all that time. He entered the building and knew exactly where to go. Also, he knew that she would be alone, supposedly waiting for the dean of the university. At least that was what she thought. The secretary only told her, "Dean will be here anytime soon," so she wasn't lying. The sentence was just very misleading.

Waiting for him to arrive, Ellie got herself ready, trying to look the best. She was wearing a knee-sized formal red dress, high-heeled black shoes which matched with her hair colour. She put on a simple make-up which made her look smoking hot, but still professional, and she knew that. And although she didn't come to seduce anyone, she was well aware of the fact that look is important too, in addition to knowledge.

She was sitting on the desk chair facing the windows, reading some magazine that she picked up because it was lying on the desk in front of her.

Dean was walking down the hallway trying to think about what he was going to say. He didn't prepare for this. He didn't even bring her flowers, it suddenly occurred to him that he might have, but he considered it to be weird.

Hearing the steps from the outside of the room, she put the magazine down and turned around just in time to see the person come in.

Being left speechless, she stood up, looking at Dean.

"Hi," he uttered.

"I'm waiting…" she started slowly.

"For Dean," he finished instead of her. "I know," he added right away, smiling.

"No," she refused to accept the fact that everything was made up. "Did you…?" she once again didn't finish the sentence.

"Yes, I did," he answered predicting what she was thinking.

"That's crazy," she laughed but she wasn't amused.

"So am I." Then he started to focus on the reason she called her here. "Why did you do it?" he wanted to know.

Without asking what he meant by that, she answered, "It was inevitable."

"You just crossed me out of your life, you erased our common past," he reminded her.

"I'd just say that I've moved on. And I thought that you would…"

"Understand?" he interrupted her.

"No, Dean, I thought that you would not care," she explained.

"Oh, come on, Ellie," he exclaimed what made her wonder.

"Why did you call me that?" she asked angrily.

"Because I know that's what people call you. And I'd call you your full name if I was able to pronounce it," he added leisurely.

"Ok, _Jon_," she emphasized seriously, "what's really going on?"

"You simply cut me off. I want to know why."

"Because I'm in a relationship," he said as if he didn't already know that.

"Yeah, you're engaged, I know."

"Now tell me, how come you know that?" she was getting furious inside.

"I've done some research. But anyway, that doesn't excuse you."

"I don't intend to make any excuses," she countered casually. "Look, I just got to the stage of life when I don't need you. And I don't mean to be harsh but… I'm not sorry. I like the way it used to be but I also like the way it is now."

Dean didn't like how coldly she was looking at him. She meant every word she said and she felt bad for him. It wasn't that he was going to weep, he was not like that. But still, it wasn't nice to hear those words.

"I wanted to give you all and you just threw it out the window. And then you just found somebody else? I don't get it. What do you want? What does he have that I don't?" he had to ask even though he knew it was stupid.

"Do you really want to know the truth, Jon?" she asked like if there was a dark secret about to be revealed.

"Yes," he answered bravely.

"When I left, that day, I felt really bad for what I did. I wanted to call you, or at least write you a message. But I knew it wouldn't be right. I had to think about it, imagine what it would be like if I threw everything away just to give a shot being with you. And maybe it wouldn't really be a big sacrifice since I don't have much to lose. But the thing was… I didn't really know you, Jon. I kind of knew the person that was hidden underneath the famous face. But was that enough to move in with somebody? Of course it wasn't. Therefore, I had to find out what you were like when you weren't with me."

"No…" he whispered painfully.

"I watched many and many wrestling matches you were involved in. I've seen promos, interviews, pictures trying to figure out what you're like. And I know that you probably want to say that it's not you, it's just your gimmick, but… I hated that person. So arrogant and ignorant, crazy, as you say, just sick. And that was when I realised that while we were hanging out, I totally forgot about that person. When I saw you for the first time, for real, not on TV, I admired you. I didn't care about _Dean_, or, better said, I liked him. He was a genius. That's why I didn't mind going to your apartment. I knew it was a one-night thing. But somehow, then it wasn't. And it started to feel really good in a different way."

"Did you fall in love with me?" he asked openly.

"You may call it that."

"What do _you_ call it?" he grinned.

"I got used to being with you," she answered what made him lose his smile.

"I still don't understand."

"I don't ask you to understand," she informed him.

"Basically you say I'm not good enough for you, is that right?"

"No!" she exclaimed kindly and placed her hand on his cheek. "You're amazing. And you're a champion," she added. "I'm still a big fan of yours. But it wouldn't work because when I met you, you were Dean Ambrose. Only later I met Jonathan Good, too. You need to find somebody who will know you as Jon. For that person, gimmick of Dean Ambrose will only be additional to the real you. And I know that you probably don't understand me right now but you will later. And then you'll be glad that I did what I did."

"Oh, shut up!" he said after a moment of awkward silence. "Do you really think that I'm falling for that bullshit?" He took her hand and moved it away from his face.

She stood in front of him, amazed. And she knew that she was right when she left him.

"You wanted to get a rid of me but you weren't courageous enough to tell me," he blamed her.

"I really didn't want to face you. You're a freak, if you want to know," she indirectly admitted that she was scared of him. She has never been before but after realising what Dean Ambrose was able to do, she gained a lot of respect for him. Unfortunately, it was the wrong kind of respect.

She took her coat and wanted to leave as soon as possible but Jon got in her way and wouldn't allow her to leave freely.

"Wait," he told her. "Tell me, when is your big day?"

"In two weeks," she answered as she had no other choice.

"So you know some guy for few months and you decide to marry him. You know me for years and didn't even want to become my girlfriend," he concluded.

"But he doesn't treat me like I belong to him."

"That's not true. You know very well that I cared about you. I've never hurt you; I even stopped sleeping around for you."

"I don't believe that," she whispered so that she wouldn't get him angrier.

"What did you say?" he asked her to repeat it although he heard her clearly.

"I said," she looked him in the eye, "that it's a lie," she said louder.

"Believe it or not, I haven't slept with other girl for a very long time," he confessed.

"Well, I give you a permission to do it, in case you need one. Because we're done," she reminded him. "Now if you excuse me, I need to call Andrea and tell him I'm coming back home."

He was thinking for a minute, and then he remembered why that name sounded so familiar to him. "Last year, you were dating a guy called Andrea," he pointed out. "You broke up with him to be with me. Is he, by any chance, the one you're getting married to?" he asked angrily.

She didn't want to tell him the truth because he would get furious but he wouldn't let her leave without an explanation. "Yes," she uttered. But his reaction surprised her.

"You broke up with him to sleep with me and he took you back?" he asked. "Does he really still want you after everything?"

Ellie slapped him for that as hard as she could. "You think I'm some damaged goods or what?"

Jon just laughed. "Well, you prioritized me before. You would have cheat on him. How come he believes you that it's not going to happen again? What has changed?"

"He knows he can believe me. And what has changed, you ask? I love him and I care enough about him not to hurt him."

"You bitch!" he called what made her slap him again, even harder this time.

It wasn't that he couldn't take it, he just didn't want to. He grabbed her hand and held it tightly. Then he pulled her closer and kissed her against her will.

"Stop it!" she screamed.

"You cannot do this," he calmed down. "You cannot just kick me away after everything. You're not the one to choose to end this."

"Who do you think you are?" she asked annoyed.

"You know very well who I am," he reminded her.

"Well, you know what? In the country I come from, you're nobody."

"But now we're in America and here you are going to do what I tell you."

She looked away and then looked back at him. She captured his eyes and changed the tactic. "Do you see now why I didn't choose you?" she tried to hurt him using only words.

It worked. She could immediately see the chance in his behaviour. He let go of her and shut his angry self down.

"I'm sorry," he apologized afterwards. "But I don't want to give up the only girl who made me a better person. Because you know that when you're gone, I get back to being the person you hate so much."

She smiled at him and said, "Hate is good. It means I still care and have feelings for you."

"Then?" he was confused hearing a chance of getting her back.

"You need to let me go, Jon. I'm not the girl you met at an after-party anymore. I'm engaged now. And I really can't let you think that things are going to be the way they used to be. It doesn't matter what we want. I'm sorry but I really need to be a moralist now, for the sake of both of us. You have to move on, start a meaningful relationship, which I know you are capable of."

Dean gave her a fake smile full of pain and confusion. His face was empty.

"You know what?" she started to capture his attention. "I don't hate you. Neither Jon, nor Dean or whatever sick man you decide to be. You will always have a special place in my heart." She got confused, she suddenly realised her words were really just some bullshit you get from movies or books. She knew it was not real and she didn't feel that way, or if so, she wouldn't let it be seen. "No," she said. "Cross that one out. I'm not a sentimental person. And neither are you."

"I'm not ready to end it."

"It ended a year ago," she reminded him. "This is just a final good…"

"Don't say that," he stopped her casually.

"But… it is. I cannot see you anymore."

"So you _are_ afraid of me seducing you," he successfully read between the lines.

"I just don't want to take the risk. So… I guess I'm going to leave now."

She turned her back to him but he caught her, gently this time, to tell her something more.

"There's one thing you should know," he started.

"Don't say it," she stopped him.

"No, it's not _that_," he said referring to the overused phrase people use to say to show their feelings. "But there's another person you should stop avoiding and talk to."

Ellie didn't understand who he was talking about.

"Your sister. Carrie," he finished the thought.

Ellie's face suddenly looked painful, like he hit her soft spot. There was a sign of bursting into tears but Ellie avoided that and turned the hate mode on.

"No," she strictly refused the idea and turned her face away.

Dean respected her privacy but he couldn't just let go. "Zoey," he called her but she didn't react. He pronounced her so-called name one more time, louder this time.

She looked at him and he saw the sign of tears in her eyes. He felt the need to hold her in his arms, to comfort her and maybe it would be the right thing to do it but he just stood there, watching her. She had to realise that he was there for her. He wanted her to see the side of him that she refused to admit that existed. She only wanted to see Dean, not the person that might be hiding underneath.

"Why don't you talk to her, Zoey?" he asked.

"She did something bad," she explained.

"We all do bad things sometimes," Dean said spontaneously. "You're not perfect either," he reminded her.

"I know," she admitted. "But there's a big difference between hurting somebody's feelings and…" she started bravely but suddenly she cut it short. Then she shook her head. "What I did," she continued, "didn't have any fatal consequences," she let it out finally.

He frowned in confusion. "Are you sure you're not just exaggerating?" he asked.

"I'm not," she answered simply and looked at him to make him believe her.

"So what did really happen?" he encouraged her in talking.

"Carrie hooked up with a married man."

"Come on, you were with me when I was in a relationship, too," he reminded her.

"You were not _married_," she emphasized. "Moreover, she started a relationship with him. This was followed by his wife finding out about them and leaving him. Also, she took their two children."

"This doesn't seem like her fault to me, though," Dean noted.

"But if she didn't start it, it wouldn't happen, would it?"

"It might," he said. "But I see where you're going with this," he let her be right.

"No, you don't. You know nothing, Jon," she added looking at him causing him pain. She was careless, losing her mind.

"Are you alright?" he asked because he got a little worried due to her recent behaviour.

"People died," she continued, staring at the wall this time and trembling.

"What are you talking about?" he tried to catch up.

"You can find it on the Internet," she looked at him, "it was in the news as well."

"You're definitely not alright," he pronounced as she dropped on the floor, her face in her hands.

He came closer to her, sat down on the floor next to her and held her in his arms as she started crying.

"It's going to be… fine," he tried to comfort her but he knew he was not good at it.

"How can you say that? It already happened and you cannot take it back," she cried.

"But neither can she," he said. "She's your sister. You should forgive her," he continued even though he wasn't sure what she did. "It had to be hard on her too. You should show her your support."

"Dean?" she called.

He wasn't sure if it was a good sign that she called him Dean this time. "Yeah?" he responded.

"You should go."

"I'm not going to leave you alone now."

"I'll be fine. My little emotional meltdown is gone." She faked a smile. "Just don't mention her again."

He felt so confused and he still couldn't believe what he just witnessed. He couldn't believe how different the girl sitting in front of him was from the one he knew. She was so unknown and distant. He somehow knew that she was gone and everything between them was gone as well. If he now tried to kiss her, she wouldn't let him. But moreover, he didn't feel like kissing her at all. He didn't want to leave her but there was nothing romantic about them anymore. He just wanted to make sure that she was fine.

"I've tried for nothing," he said more to himself than to her, summarizing their previous relationship.

"What?" she started paying attention to what he was saying.

"I've just lost a year of my life trying to find you and it was worthless." He finally realised the truth. "I waited. And what for? For finding out you're engaged? For finding it was over? For good? You cry here because your sister did something bad and you can't forgive her. But you know what? Look at me. Look at me!" he shouted this time. "This is what _you_'ve done. You've ruined me. I wanted to give you all but you just threw it away. Along with my feelings. Oh, don't play innocent," he added when he saw her looking like a victim. "You know that I'm not a monster without feelings. You say you hate Dean but you've never really met him. All the time it was Jon. And you took his heart and squeezed it real hard so that nothing would be left. And you don't even say sorry."

"I'm sorry," she said when she realised that he was right.

"Now you've become the person you hate. Dean Ambrose who doesn't care, thinks only about himself and is okay with hurting people."

"I'm sorry," she repeated for she knew saying it once wasn't enough.

"Or even worse. Jon Moxley. That's the exact comparison. And what's the worst, you didn't even have the courage to say it was over," he continued. "You just let it fade out somehow."

"I'm sorry," she cried. "Forgive me, please."

"Oh, you don't care about me forgiving you. You just hate hearing it. You're only waiting for me to leave so you don't have to face me. Now face that truth, darling," he added with a hidden irony. He looked into her teary eyes, he held her long hair, he pulled them to cause her pain but afterwards, he caressed it with love. "Life sucks, doesn't it?" he proclaimed. "I guess it's true what they say that once you're up, once you're down. You try really hard but eventually, it all goes to waste anyway."

For a while now, she was feeling really uncomfortable. She has seen many faces of Jonathan Good or Dean Ambrose but there was more and she could never predict his reactions. He might be nice to her as well as do something cruel to hurt her. It wasn't like that when there were no strings attached. But she guessed it wasn't possible to keep their emotions shut down. Sooner or later, one or both of them would get romantically involved. At the time they started to build their relationship, they should have known what they were getting into. Maybe they should have made it clear what they expected from that endeavour instead of keeping the door open.

"What are you thinking about now?" he wanted to know.

"I'm just trying to figure out when it went wrong," she said with sadness in her voice. But mentally, she was alright. She didn't think about her sister anymore, she focused on him. It somehow brought her less pain, although she was more involved and definitely guiltier. "I wish I didn't manage a meeting with you when I was in Las Vegas with my friend."

"Believe it or not, I'm still glad you did."

"But if I didn't do it, I wouldn't hurt you so much."

"I guess I'm used to being hurt. Also, most of the time, it felt nice," he admitted with a slight smirk on his still hurt face. "Now stand up," he commanded and helped her out.

"Thanks," she said looking at him, "Jonathan," she added.

"I've got an idea and please don't reject it immediately. What if we were ourselves just for today and forgot about everything? Nothing would matter, there would be no guilt. What do you say?"

"I think you're trying to make me realise that I've made a mistake not choosing you," she thought she saw him through.

"I don't want you to feel that way. The only purpose of this is for you to spend with me one more day. That's it. Let me get my last goodbye, please."

He could see that she wanted to say yes but she didn't. "I can't do that. I'm sorry," she said instead. She was realising how much she was hurting him with her words. He was playing nice but she wouldn't appreciate it. She cared about him but now there was somebody more important in her life and she couldn't risk letting him down.

As she painfully smiled at him and turned around to leave for good, something broke inside of him. During the time that he was talking to her, there were times when he let his dark side show, but until now, he successfully managed to push down each and every single anger rush. Unfortunately, he failed this time. He couldn't take it anymore. His self-control shut down, his animal instincts arose. The evil, cruel smile, which she hasn't noticed yet because he was standing behind her, appeared on his face. He was boiling up with fury. He approached her and softly placed his arm around her waist, then slowly pushed her closer to him.

"Don't be pathetic," she told him but he didn't say a word.

He just kept realizing his desires. He wanted that one last goodbye and he stopped caring whether she would let him have one or not. He was in charge now. He could just take what he wanted.

Having total control of her body, he started to kiss her on her neck.

"What are you doing?" she whispered being a little frightened.

Ignoring her, he continued.

"Stop!" she screamed but he wouldn't. She tried to turn around and face him but it was impossible for her to win over his strength.

She tried to calm down and think of a plan. "I don't want this, Jon."

"Jon's gone," were the first words he pronounced.

"Okay, Dean." Her voice trembled. "Why don't we just talk?" she offered although she had no intentions in doing so.

"We did. It didn't work out," he reminded her.

"Just let me go, please," she cried.

He gathered her hair and placed them in front of her shoulder so that he could kiss her neck and her upper back. His hand unzipped the dress and stopped on her buttock. Then he took her hand and twisted her around to see her desperate eyes. She avoided an eye-contact so he grabbed her arm really firmly for her to realise that she should do what he wants.

"You're hurting me," she stated the evident.

"I don't care," he told her and she could see that he meant it.

He carelessly and arrogantly held her in his arms while trying to connect with her mouth which she constantly moved away from him. She tried to scream but he didn't care for anybody hearing her. He lost all his consciousness of the environment they were in. For him, the only important thing was getting her. No other person could grab his attention and make him forget about his goal. This was the first time he was really relentless and totally selfish.

In her fight, she succeeded in slapping his face but he only gave her a smile, not letting go of the grip. For a second, she seriously considered just stopping to resist because she knew it was pointless but she had to try, she had to do her best to get away, or to make him realise what a huge mistake he was making.

"Does nothing matter to you?" she cried in a search for a man she used to know. "Do I not matter to you at all anymore?" she continued. He didn't answer what made her believe that the answer would be negative. She was terrified of the idea that there was no way out of this hell. If he only wasn't so strong, she would probably be able to make him let go of her. But she knew him and that made the situation even worse for her. She cared about him even though he acted so cruelly. She didn't want to hurt him even though he was hurting her. She wished to take time back to the point where everything was alright. Ten minutes ago she wouldn't think of this scenario. It all happened so suddenly. And yet, here they were, in a moment that could not be forgotten or forgiven. The last chance for him to win her was long gone. His cold ruthless action left footsteps not only on her body but also on her mind. Her heart was closed for him. Maybe that was why he was doing such a bad thing. It was possibly the worst decision of his life.


End file.
